A2R6 


^. 


g 


f^UONVSOl^       %a3AINn-3WV 


V? 


^WEUNIVER% 


i   %K\ 


.^.OFCAllFO%        .^.OFCAllFORjk, 
it?  *\/'/*^    1  ^      Si'  ^\r r^    1  t^ 


.?? 


-^UIBRAr 


^ 


m 


m/A 


rfr 


^mpm\.u.^ 


\  ^..^,,^<^    ^  •-> — .?r 


CO 

93 


6ie 


rS 


v^lOSANCflfj> 


S 
%a3AINrt'3WV^ 


.\W!UNIVE1?S'// 


I 


Q 


•jjfijr.Kiur 


>,^    ^\mmoA^ 


%JI1V3J0>^ 


^ 


=3 


ill  I 


.5 


^OFCAllFOff^ 


^<?Aavaanii>J^ 


■  *   ■■&■>«  m^W^mm  . 


|VER%       ^lOSANCflfjV 


"^/^a^AiNnawv 


AOfCALIF0%.       ^^OFCAllFOff^ 


KAKtC/r 


^^^^VlIBRAKYC//, 


^i8i  tiiti>»tm'». 


■^  ■^  X.     ^*>— -'^        '   <; 


L2:3n 


^JUJfiTiUi 


S 


"aU3; 


rrl 


^OFCAIIFO% 


HaiH^"^     ^^Aavnan-i^" 


ic 


^WEUN!Vi 


.-^•^ 


c 


llvtKi/4 


^lOSANCFlfJ> 


%a3A 


■aojiiv. 


i) 


IIVER% 


5' 


^lOSANCflfj^ 


"^ajAiNflaftv' 


^OFCAIIFO%- 


"  ~-  ■  ""/r/ 


\  /CN 


r 


J    »  «  .    '      > 


,_ -----if* 


SHAKESPEARE'S 


HISTORY  OF 


THE    LIFE    AND    DEATH 


OF 


KING    JOHN. 


Edited,  with  Notes, 


BY 


WILLIAM  J.  ROLFE,  A.M., 

FORMERLY   HEAD  MASTER    OF   THE   HIGH    SCHOOL,  CAMBRIDGE,  MASS. 


1VITH  ENGRA  VINGS. 


NEW    YORK: 

HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  PUBLISHERS. 

FRANKLIN     SQUARE. 
1887. 


ENGLISH 

CLASSICS. 

Edited  by  WM. 

J.  ROLFE,  A.M. 

Illustrated.     i6mo,  Cloth,  56  cents  per 

volume  ;   Paper,  40  cents  per  volume. 

Shakespeare's  Works. 

The  Merchant  of  Venice. 

The  Taming  of  the  Shrew.  — 

—     Othello. 

All  ;s  Well  that  Enas  Well. 

Julius  Caesar. 

Coriolanus. 

A  Midsummer-Night's  Dream. 

The  Comedy  of  Errors. 

Macbeth. 

Cymbeline. 

Hamlet. 

Antony  and  Cleopatra. 

Much  Ado  about  Nothing. 

Measure  for  Measure. 

Romeo  and  Juliet. 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

As  You  Like  It. 

Love's  Labour  's  Lost. 

The  Tempest. 

Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona^- 

Twelfth  Ni^ht. 

Timon  of  Athens. 

The  Winter's  Tale. 

Troilus  and  Cressida. 

King  John. 

Henry  VI.     Part  I. 

Kichard  II. 

Henry  VI.     Part  II. 

Henry  IV.     Part  I. 

Henry  VI.     Part  III. 

Henry  IV.     Part  II. 

Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre. 

^  Henry  V. 

The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen. 

Richard  III. 

Venus  and  Adonis,  Lucrece,  etc. 

Henry  VI 11. 

Sonnets. 

King  Lear. 

Titus  Andronicus. 

Goldsmith's  J 

Select  Poems. 

Gray's  Sel 

ECT  Poems. 

Published  by  HARPER  & 

BROTHERS.  New  York. 

^W  A  ny  of  the  above  ivorks  will  be  sei 

it  by  mail,  postage  prepaid,  to  any  part 

of  the  United  States,  < 

■)ii  receipt  of  the  price. 

Copyright,  1880,  by  Harper  &  Brothers. 


A2ff(o 


CO  N  TEN  TS 


PAGE 


Introduction  to  King  John 9 

I.  The  History  of  the  Play 9 

II.  The  Sources  of  the  Plot lo 

III.  Critical  Comments  on  the  Play. 13 

KING  JOHN 39 

Act  I... 4, 

"   " 5« 

"in 71 

"IV 93 

"    V 

*' Ill 

Notes. 12^ 


473559 


---i-- 


KING  JOHN. 


INTRODUCTION 

TO 

THE  LIFE  AND  DEATH   OF   KING  JOHN„ 


I.    THE   HISTORY   OF   THE    PLAY. 

Ki7ig  John  was  first  printed  in  the  folio  of  1623,  where  it 
is  entitled  "  The  life  and  death  of  King  lohn,"  and  occupies 
pages  1-22  in  the  division  of  "  Histories."  It  is  the  only 
one  of  the  undoubted  works  of  Shakespeare  which  is  not  en- 
tered in  the  Registers  of  the  Stationers'  Company.  Internal 
evidence  shows  pretty  clearly  that  it  was  written  at  about 
the  same  time   as  Richard  II. ;  and  it  is  probable  that  it 


lo  KING  JOHN. 

followed  rather  than  preceded  that  play.  We  cannot  be  far 
wrong  if,  with  Furnivall,  we  assign  it  to  the  year  1595.  Dow- 
den  {Shaks.  Primer,  p.  90)  also  says  :  "  The  chief  point  of 
difference  with  respect  to  form  is  that  Richard  II.  contains 
a  much  larger  proportion  of  rhymed  verse,  and  on  the  whole 
we  shall  not  perhaps  err  in  regarding  Richard  IT.  as  the  ear- 
lier of  the  two."  Prof.  Ward  {Eng.  Dram.  Lit.  vol.  i.  p.  368) 
remarks  that  "the  play  evidently  belongs  to  the  same  pe- 
riod of  Shakspere's  productivity  as  Richard  II.,  and  may  be 
dated  about  the  same  time  ;  probably  before  the  body  of 
those  in  which  he  mainly  followed  Holinshed."  Fleay  makes 
the  date  1596,  seeing  in  i.  2.  66-75,  as  certain  other  critics 
have  done,  an  allusion  to  the  fleet  sent  against  Spain  in  that 
year.  He  believes  also  that  "  the  laments  of  Constance  for 
Arthur's  death  (iii.  4)  were  inspired  by  Shakespeare's  sorrow 
for  his  heir  and  only  son,  Hamnet,  whom  he  lost  August  12, 
1596."  As  it  is  included  in  Meres's  list  in  his  Palladis 
lamia  (see  M.N.  D.  p.  9),  it  must  have  been  put  upon  the 
stage  before  the  publication  of  that  book  in  September,  1598. 

ir.    THE   SOURCES    OF   THE    PLOT. 

King  jfohn  varies  from  the  facts  of  history  more  than  any 
other  of  the  "  Histories,"  being  founded  upon  an  earlier  play 
published  in  1591  with  the  following  title-page,  of  which 
Halliwell  gives  a  fac-simile  : 

THE  I  Troublesome  Raigne  |  of  lohti  King  of  Ejighmd, 
with  the  dis-  |  couerie  of  King  Richard  Cordelions  |  Base 
Sonne  (vulgarly  named,  The  Ba-  |  stard  Fawconbridge) :  also 
the  I  death  of  King  lohn  at  Swinstead  \  Abbey.  \  As  it  was 
{sundry  times)  piiblikely  acted  by  the  \  Quee?ies  Maiesties  Play- 
ers, in  the  ho-  \  nourable  Citie  of\  London.  Imprinted  at 
London  for  Sampson  Clarke,  \  and  are  to  be  solde  at  his  shop, 
on  the  backe-  \  side  of  the  Royall  Exchange.  \  159 1. 

In  the  year  161 1  this  play  was  reprinted  "by  Valentine 
Sinimes  for  John  Helme,"  with  "Written  by  W.  Sh."  added 


INTRODUCTION.  II 

to  the  title-page  ;  and  in  a  third  edition,  printed  "  by  Aug  : 
Mathewes  for  Thomas  Dewe,"  and  brought  out  in  1622,  it 
was  ascribed  to  "  W.  Shakespeare."  This  was  doubtless  a 
mere  trick  of  the  publishers  to  help  the  sale  of  the  book,  as 
the  style  proves  conclusively  that  Shakespeare  had  no  part 
in  its  authorship. 

While  the  poet  follows  this  old  play  in  the  outlines  of  his 
plot,  and  occasionally  borrows  its  language,  his  real  indebt- 
edness to  it  is  comparatively  slight,  "  The  main  incidents 
are  the  same,  but  Shakspere  elevates  and  almost  re-creates 
the  characters  ;  for  the  most  eloquent  and  poetical  passages 
no  original  is  to  be  found  in  the  old  play.  The  character 
of  the  king  grows  more  darkly  treacherous  in  Shakspere's 
hands  :  barely  a  hint  of  the  earlier  author  suggested  the 
scene,  so  powerful  and  so  subtle,  in  which  John  insinuates 
to  Hubert  his  murderous  desires  ;  the  boyish  innocence  of 
Arthur,  and  the  pathos  of  his  life,  become  real  and  living  as 
they  are  dealt  with  by  the  imagination  of  Shakspere  ;  Con- 
stance is  no  longer  a  fierce  and  ambitious  virago,  but  a  pas- 
sionate sorrowing  mother ;  Faulconbridge  is  ennobled  by  a 
manly  tenderness  and  a  purer  patriotism.  Shakspere  depicts, 
with  true  English  spirit,  the  ambition,  the  political  greed,  the 
faithlessness,  the  sophistry,  of  the  court  of  Rome  ;  but  he 
wholly  omits  a  ribald  scene  of  the  old  play,  in  which  the 
licentiousness  of  monasteries  is  exposed  to  ridicule"  (Dow- 
den). 

Gervinus,  after  remarking  that  "  Shakespeare  entirely  fol- 
lowed this  older  work  in  the  historical  matter,"  goes  on  to 
say:  "Artistically  considered,  he  took  in  the  outward  design 
of  the  piece,  blended  both  parts  into  one,  adhered  to  the 
leading  features  of  the  characters,  and  finished  them  with 
finer  touches.  .  .  .  The  older  Khig  jfohii  is  a  rough  but  not 
a  bad  piece,  from  which  the  poet  could  have  borrowed  many 
happy  poetical  and  historical  features.  It  possesses  the  old 
stiffness,  and  is  intermingled  with  Latin  passages  according 


12 


KING  JOHN. 


to  the  earlier  custom,  yet  it  is  freer  from  the  extravagances 
of  the  old  school,  from  which  these  historical  subjects  in  a 
great  measure  rescued  us.  The  diffuseness  in  the  second 
part  is  heavy,  and  here  Shakespeare  with  excellent  tact  has 
remedied  the  evil  by  abridgment.  The  characters  are  de- 
signed in  a  manner  suitable  for  our  poet's  use,  but  they  are 
far  less  sustained  than  his.  For  the  mere  sake  of  speaking, 
speeches  are  put  into  the  mouth  of  Faulconbridge  which  are 
inconsistent  with  his  nature.  Arthur,  who  once  speaks  in 
the  childish  tone  of  his  age,  loses  it  again,  and  in  the  pathet- 
ic scene  with  Hubert  is  a  precocious  disputant.  How  far 
Shakespeare  excelled  his  best  contemporary  poets  in  fine 
feeling  is  evinced  by  his  revised  work  as  compared  with  this 
older  play.  Shakespeare  delineates  his  Faulconbridge  (and 
himself  in  him)  rigidly  and  bitterly  enough  as  a  good  Prot- 
estant in  the  base  treatment  of  Popish  arrogance.  In  suit- 
able passages  he  gives  full  vent  to  the  indignation  of  the 
English  at  Popish  rule  and  intrigue,  encroachment  and  op- 
pression, which  at  that  time  was  readily  listened  to  in  Lon- 
don. But  he  did  not  go  so  far  as  to  make  a  farce  of  Faul- 
conbridge's  extortions  from  the  clergy  ;  ...  to  our  poet's 
impartial  mind  the  dignity  of  the  clergy,  nay,  even  the  con- 
templativeness  of  cloister-life,  was  a  matter  too  sacred  for 
him  to  introduce  it  in  a  ridiculous  form  into  the  seriousness 
of  history.  There  are  many  similar  crudenesses  in  the  old 
piece,  which  Shakespeare  has  likewise  effaced.  At  the  mar- 
riage treaty  between  Lewis  and  Blanche,  the  poor  Constance 
is  present;  at  the  indelicate  discussion  (i.  i)  between  the 
brothers  Faulconbridge,  their  mother  is  introduced  ;  the  il- 
legitimate son  subsequently  threatens  his  own  mother  with 
death  if  she  does  not  confess  the  truth  to  him  :  this  lack  of 
tenderness  does  not  occur  in  Shakespeare.  In  another  re- 
spect also  the  accurate  comparison  of  the  two  works  is  of 
the  greatest  interest,  if  we  would  watch  Shakespeare's  depth 
in  the  treatment  of  his  poetry,  as  it  were,  in  the  work  and  in 


INTRODUCTION.  13 

the  creation  itself.  In  many  passages  of  the  old  play,  where 
motives,  delineation  of  character  and  actions,  lay  before  him 
in  ample  prolixity,  he  has  gathered  the  contents  of  whole 
scenes  compactly  into  a  single  sentence  or  a  single  insinua- 
tion ;  he  disdains  superabundant  perspicuity,  and  leaves  to 
the  actor,  the  spectator,  and  the  reader  something  for  his 
own  mind  to  find  out  and  to  add." 

III.    CRITICAL    COMMENTS    ON   THE    PLAY. 
\^Fro7>i  Mrs.  Jameson'' s  "  Characteristics  of  Women.'"  *] 

Constance  of  Bretagne  was  the  only  daughter  and  heiress 
of  Conan  IV.,  Duke  of  Bretagne  ;  her  mother  was  Margaret 
of  Scotland,  the  eldest  daughter  of  Malcolm  IV.  But  little 
mention  is  made  of  this  princess  in  the  old  histories ;  but 
she  appears  to  have  inherited  some  portion  of  the  talent  and 
spirit  of  her  father,  and  to  have  transmitted  them  to  her 
daughter.  The  misfortunes  of  Constance  may  be  said  to 
have  commenced  before  her  birth,  and  took  their  rise  in  the 
misconduct  of  one  of  her  female  ancestors.  Her  great- 
grandmother  Matilda,  the  vi'ife  of  Conan  III.,  was  distin- 
guished by  her  beauty  and  imperious  temper,  and  not  less 
by  her  gallantries.  Her  husband,  not  thinking  proper  to  re- 
pudiate her  during  his  lifetime,  contented  himself  with  dis- 
inheriting her  son  Hoel,  whom  he  declared  illegitimate;  and 
bequeathed  his  dukedom  to  his  daughter  Bertha,  and  her 
husband  Allan  the  Black,  Earl  of  Richmond,  who  were  pro- 
claimed and  acknowledged  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Bretagne. 

Prince  Hoel,  so  far  from  acquiescing  in  his  father's  will, 
immediately  levied  an  army  to  maintain  his  rights,  and  a 
civil  war  ensued  between  the  brother  and  sister,  which  last- 
ed for  twelve  or  fourteen  years.  Bertha,  whose  reputation 
was  not  much  fairer  than  that  of  her  mother  Matilda,  was 
succeeded  by  her  son  Conan  IV.  He  was  young,  and  of  a 
feeble,  vacillating  temper,  and  after  struggling  for  a  few  years 
*  American  ed.  (Boston,  1857),  p.  35S  fol. 


14  KING  JOHN. 

against  the  increasing  power  of  his  uncle  Hoel,  and  his  own 
rebelhous  barons,  he  called  in  the  aid  of  that  politic  and  am- 
bitious monarch,  Henry  II.  of  England.  This  fatal  step  de- 
cided the  fate  of  his  crown  and  his  posterity ;  from  the  mo- 
ment the  English  set  foot  in  Bretagne,  that  miserable  country 
became  a  scene  of  horrors  and  crimes — oppression  and  per- 
fidy on  the  one  hand,  unavailing  struggles  on  the  other.  Ten 
years  of  civil  discord  ensued,  during  which  the  greatest  part 
of  Bretagne  was  desolated,  and  nearly  a  third  of  the  popula- 
tion carried  off  by  famine  and  pestilence.  In  the  end,  Conan 
was  secured  in  the  possession  of  his  throne  by  the  assistance 
of  the  English  king,  who,  equally  subtle  and  ambitious,  con- 
trived in  the  course  of  this  warfare  to  strip  Conan  of  most 
of  his  provinces  by  successive  treaties,  alienate  the  Breton 
nobles  from  their  lawful  sovereign,  and  at  length  render  the 
Duke  himself  the  mere  vassal  of  his  power. 

In  the  midst  of  these  scenes  of  turbulence  and  bloodshed 
was  Constance  born,  in  the  year  1164.  The  English  king 
consummated  his  perfidious  scheme  of  policy,  by  seizing  on 
the  person  of  the  infant  princess,  before  she  was  three  years 
old,  as  a  hostage  for  her  father.  Afterwards,  by  contracting 
her  in  marriage  to  his  third  son,  Geoffrey  Plantagenet,  he 
ensured,  as  he  thought,  the  possession  of  the  duchy  of  Bre- 
tagne to  his  own  posterity. 

From  this  time  we  hear  no  more  of  the  weak,  unhappy 
Conan,  who,  retiring  from  a  fruitless  contest,  hid  himself  in 
some  obscure  retreat;  even  the  date  of  his  death  is  unknown. 
Meanwhile  Henry  openly  claimed  the  duchy  in  behalf  of 
his  son  Geoffrey  and  the  Lady  Constance  ;  and  their  claims 
not  being  immediately  acknowledged,  he  invaded  Bretagne 
with  a  large  army,  laid  waste  the  country,  bribed  or  forced 
some  of  the  barons  into  submission,  murdered  or  imprisoned 
others,  and,  by  the  most  treacherous  and  barbarous  policy, 
contrived  to  keep  possession  of  the  country  he  had  thus 
seized.     However,  in  order  to  satisfy  the  Bretons,  who  were 


INTRODUCTION. 


15 


attached  to  the  race  of  their  ancient  sovereigns,  and  to  give 
some  colour  to  his  usurpation,  he  caused  Geoffrey  and  Con- 
stance to  be  solemnly  crowned  at  Rennes  as  Duke  and 
Duchess  of  Bretagne.  This  was  in  the  year  1169,  when 
Constance  was  five  and  Prince  Geoffrey  about  eight  yearii 
old.  His  father,  Henry,  continued  to  rule,  or  rather  to  rav- 
age and  oppress,  the  country  in  their  name  for  about  four- 
teen years,  during  which  period  we  do  not  hear  of  Constance. 
She  appears  to  have  been  kept  in  a  species  of  constraint  as 
a  hostage  rather  than  a  sovereign  ;  while  her  husband  Geof- 
frey, as  he  grew  up  to  manhood,  was  too  much  engaged  in 
keeping  the  Bretons  in  order,  and  disputing  his  rights  with 
his  father,  to  think  about  the  completion  of  his  union  with 
Constance,  although  his  sole  title  to  the  dukedom  was  prop- 
erly and  legally  in  right  of  his  wife.  At  length,  in  1 182,  the 
nuptials  were  formally  celebrated,  Constance  being  then  in 
her  nineteenth  year.  At  the  same  time,  she  was  recognized 
as  Duchess  of  Bretagne  de  son  c/ief  (thzt  is,  in  her  own  right) 
by  two  acts  of  legislation,  which  are  still  preserved  among 
the  records  of  Bretagne,  and  bear  her  own  seal  and  signa- 
ture. 

Those  domestic  feuds  which  embittered  the  whole  life  of 
Henry  II.,  and  at  length  broke  his  heart,  are  well  known. 
Of  all  his  sons,  who  were  in  continual  rebellion  against 
him,  Geoffrey  was  the  most  undutiful  and  the  most  formida- 
ble :  he  had  all  the  pride  of  the  Plantagenets,  all  the  war- 
like accomplishments  of  his  two  elder  brothers,  Henry  and 
Richard  ;  and  was  the  only  one  who  could  compete  with  his 
father  in  talent,  eloquence,  and  dissimulation.  No  sooner 
was  he  the  husband  of  Constance,  and  in  possession  of  the 
throne  of  Bretagne,  than  he  openly  opposed  his  father;  in 
other  words,  he  maintained  the  honour  and  interests  of  his 
wife  and  her  unhappy  country  against  the  cruelties  and  op- 
pression of  the  English  plunderers.*  About  three  years 
*  Vi'c/c'  Hani,  Histoire  (/<•  Bietiigite. 


l6  KING  JOHN. 

after  his  marriage,  he  was  invited  to  Paris  for  the  purpose 
of  concluding  a  league,  offensive  and  defensive,  with  the 
French  king;  in  this  journey  he  was  accompanied  by  the 
Duchess  Constance,  and  they  were  received  and  entertained 
with  royal  magnificence.  Geoffrey,  who  excelled  in  all  chiv- 
alrous accomplishments,  distinguished  himself  in  the  tourna- 
ments which  were  celebrated  on  the  occasion  ;  but  unfortu- 
nately, after  an  encounter  with  a  French  knight  celebrated 
for  his  prowess,  he  was  accidentally  flung  from  his  horse, 
and  trampled  to  death  in  the  lists  before  he  could  be  extri- 
cated. 

Constance,  being  now  left  a  widow,  returned  to  Bretagne, 
where  her  barons  rallied  round  her,  and  acknowledged  her 
as  their  sovereign.  The  Salique  law  did  not  prevail  in  Bre- 
tagne, and  it  appears  that  in  those  times  the  power  of  a  fe- 
male to  possess  and  transmit  the  rights  of  sovereignty  had 
been  recognized  in  several  instances  ;  but  Constance  is  the 
first  woman  who  exercised  those  rights  in  her  own  person. 
She  had  one  daughter,  Elinor,  born  in  the  second  year  of 
her  marriage,  and  a  few  months  after  her  husband's  death 
she  gave  birth  to  a  son.  The  States  of  Bretagne  were  filled 
with  exultation ;  they  required  that  the  infant  prince  should 
not  bear  the  name  of  his  father — a  name  which  Constance, 
in  fond  remembrance  of  her  husband,  would  have  bestowed 
on  him — still  less  that  of  his  grandfather  Henry;  but  that 
of  Arthur,  the  redoubted  hero  of  their  country,  whose  mem- 
ory was  worshipped  by  the  populace.  Though  the  Arthur 
of  romantic  and  fairy  legends  —  the  Arthur  of  the  Round 
Table,  had  been  dead  for  six  centuries,  they  still  looked  for 
his  second  appearance  among  them,  according  to  the  proph- 
ecy of  Merlin  ;  and  now,  with  fond  arid  short-sighted  enthu- 
siasm, fixed  their  hopes  on  the  young  Arthur  as  one  destined 
to  redeem  the  glory  and  independence  of  their  oppressed 
and  miserable  country.  But  in  the  very  midst  of  the  rejoic- 
ings which  succeeded  the  birth  of  the  prince,  his  grandfather, 


INTRODUCTION. 


17 


Henry  II.,  demanded  to  have  the  possession  and  guardian- 
ship of  his  person ;  and  on  the  spirited  refusal  of  Constance 
to  yield  her  son  into  his  power,  he  invaded  Bretagne  with  a 
large  army,  plundering,  burning,  devastating  the  country  as 
he  advanced.  He  seized  Rennes,  the  capital,  and  having 
by  the  basest  treachery  obtained  possession  of  the  persons 
both  of  the  young  duchess  and  her  children,  he  married 
Constance  forcibly  to  one  of  his  own  favorite  adherents, 
Randal  de  Blondeville,  Earl  of  Chester,  and  conferred  on 
him  the  duchy  of  Bretagne,  to  be  held  as  a  fief  of  the  Eng- 
lish crown. 

The  Earl  of  Chester,  though  a  brave  knight,  and  one  of 
the  greatest  barons  of  England,  had  no  pretensions  to  so 
high  an  alliance ;  nor  did  he  possess  any  qualities  or  per- 
sonal accomplishments  which  might  have  reconciled  Con- 
stance to  him  as  a  husband.  He  was  a  man  of  diminutive 
stature  and  mean  appearance,  but  of  haughty  and  ferocious 
manners  and  unbounded  ambition.*  In  a  conference  be- 
tween this  Earl  of  Chester  and  the  Earl  of  Perche,  in  Lin- 
coln Cathedral,  the  latter  taunted  Randal  with  his  insig- 
nificant person,  and  called  him  contemptuously  ^^  Dwarf." 
"  Sayst  thou  so !"  replied  Randal ;  "  I  vow  to  God  and  our 
Lady,  whose  church  this  is,  that  ere  long  I  will  seem  to  thee 
high  as  that  steeple!"  He  was  as  good  as  his  word,  when, 
on  ascending  the  throne  of  Brittany,  the  Earl  of  Perche  be- 
came his  vassal. 

We  cannot  know  what  measures  were  used  to  force  this 
degradation  on  the  reluctant  and  high-spirited  Constance; 
it  is  only  certain  that  she  never  considered  her  marriage  in 
the  light  of  a  sacred  obligation,  and  that  she  took  the  first 
opportunity  of  legally  breaking  from  a  chain  which  could 
scarcely  be  considered  as  legally  binding.  For  about  a  year 
she  was  obliged  to  allow  this  detested  husband  the  title  of 
Duke  of  Bretagne,  and  he  administered  the  government  with- 
*  Vide  Sir  Peter  Leycester's  Antiquities  of  Chester. 

B 


1 8  KING  JOHN. 

out  the  slightest  reference  to  her  will,  even  in  form,  till  ii8g, 
when  Henry  11.  died,  execrating  himself  and  his  undutifui 
children.  Whatever  great  and  good  qualities  this  monarch 
may  have  possessed,  his  conduct  in  Bretagne  was  uniformly 
detestable.  Even  the  unfilial  behaviour  of  his  sons  may  be 
extenuated;  for  while  he  spent  his  life,  and  sacrificed  his 
peace,  and  violated  every  principle  of  honour  and  humanity 
to  compass  their  political  aggrandizement,  he  was  guilty  of 
atrocious  injustice  towards  them,  and  set  them  a  bad  ex- 
ample in  his  own  person. 

The  tidings  of  Henry's  death  had  no  sooner  reached  Bre- 
tagne than  the  barons  of  that  country  rose  with  one  accord 
against  his  government,  banished  or  massacred  his  officers, 
and,  sanctioned  by  the  Duchess  Constance,  drove  Randal  de 
Blondeville  and  his  followers  from  Bretagne ;  he  retired  to 
his  earldom  of  Chester,  there  to  brood  over  his  injuries  and 
meditate  vengeance. 

In  the  meantime,  Richard  I.  ascended  the  English  throne. 
Soon  afterwards  he  embarked  on  his  celebrated  expedition 
to  the  Holy  Land,  having  previously  declared  Prince  Arthur, 
the  only  son  of  Constance,  heir  to  all  his  dominions.* 

His  absence,  and  that  of  many  of  her  own  turbulent  barons 
and  encroaching  neighbours,  left  to  Constance  and  her  har- 
assed dominions  a  short  interval  of  profound  peace.  The 
historians  of  that  period,  occupied  by  the  warlike  exploits  of 
the  French  and  English  kings  in  Palestine,  make  but  little 
mention  of  the  domestic  events  of  Europe  during  their  ab- 
sence; but  it  is  no  slight  encomium  on  the  character  of 
Constance  that  Bretagne  flourished  under  her  government, 
and  began  to  recover  from  the  effects  of  twenty  years  of 
desolating  war.  The  seven  years  during  which  she  ruled  as 
an  independent  sovereign  were  not  marked  by  any  events 
of  importance;  but  in  the  year  1196  she  caused  her  son  Ar- 
thur, then  nine  years  of  age,  to  be  acknowledged  Duke  of 
*  By  the  treaty  of  Messina,  1 190. 


IN  TROD  UCTION.  i  g 

Bretagne  by  the  States,  and  associated  him  with  herself  in 
all  the  acts  of  government. 

There  was  more  of  maternal  fondness  than  policy  in  this 
measure,  and  it  cost  her  dear.  Richard,  that  royal  firebrand, 
had  now  returned  to  England.  By  the  intrigues  and  repre- 
sentations of  Earl  Randal,  his  attention  was  turned  to  Bre- 
tagne. He  expressed  extreme  indignation  that  Constance 
should  have  proclaimed  her  son  Duke  of  Bretagne,  and  her 
partner  in  power,  without  his  consent,  he  being  the  feudal 
lord  and  natural  guardian  of  the  young  prince.  After  some 
excuses  and  representations  on  the  part  of  Constance,  he  af- 
fected to  be  pacified,  and  a  friendly  interview  was  appointed 
at  Pontorson,  on  the  frontiers  of  Normandy. 

We  can  hardly  reconcile  the  cruel  and  perfidious  scenes 
which  follow  with  those  romantic  and  chivalrous  associations 
which  illustrate  the  memory  of  Coeur-de-Lion,  the  friend  of 
Blondel  and  the  antagonist  of  Saladin.  Constance,  perfect- 
ly unsuspicious  of  the  meditated  treason,  accepted  the  invi- 
tation of  her  brother-in-law,  and  set  out  from  Rennes  with  a 
small  but  magnificent  retinue  to  join  him  at  Pontorson.  On 
the  road,  and  within  sight  of  the  town,  the  Earl  of  Chester 
was  posted  with  a  troop  of  Richard's  soldiery,  and  while  the 
duchess  prepared  to  enter  the  gates,  where  she  expected  to 
be  received  with  honour  and  welcome,  he  suddenly  rushed 
from  his  ambuscade,  fell  upon  her  and  her  suite,  put  the  lat- 
ter to  flight,  and  carried  off  Constance  to  the  strong  Castle 
of  St.  Jaques  de  Beuvron,  where  he  detained  her  a  prisoner 
for  eighteen  months.  The  chronicle  does  not  tell  us  how 
Randal  treated  his  unfortunate  wife  during  this  long  impris- 
onment. She  was  absolutely  in  his  power;  none  of  her  own 
people  were  suffered  to  approach  her,  and  whatever  might 
have  been  his  behaviour  towards  her,  one  thing  alone  is  cer- 
tain, that  so  far  from  softening  her  feelings  towards  him,  it 
seems  to  have  added  tenfold  bitterness  to  her  abhorrence 
and  her  scorn. 


20  KING  JOHN. 

The  barons  of  Bretagne  sent  the  Bishop  of  Rennes  to 
complain  of  this  violation  of  faith  and  justice,  and  to  de- 
mand the  restitution  of  the  duchess.  Richard  meanly 
evaded  and  temporized  :  he  engaged  to  restore  Constance 
to  liberty  on  certain  conditions;  but  this  was  merely  to  gain 
time.  When  the  stipulated  terms  were  complied  with,  and 
the  hostages  delivered,  the  Bretons  sent  a  herald  to  the  Eng- 
lish king  to  require  him  to  fulfil  his  part  of  the  treaty  and 
restore  their  beloved  Constance.  Richard  replied  with  in- 
solent defiance,  refused  to  deliver  up  either  the  hostages  or 
Constance,  and  marched  his  army  into  the  heart  of  the 
country. 

All  that  Bretagne  had  suffered  previously  was  as  nothing 
compared  to  this  terrible  invasion ;  and  all  that  the  humane 
and  peaceful  government  of  Constance  had  effected  during 
seven  years  was  at  once  annihilated.  The  English  barons 
and  their  savage  and  mercenary  followers  spread  themselves 
through  the  country,  which  they  wasted  with  fire  and  sword. 
The  castles  of  those  who  ventured  to  defend  themselves  were 
razed  to  the  ground ;  the  towns  and  villages  plundered  and 
burned,  and  the  wretched  inhabitants  fled  to  the  caves  and 
forests;  but  not  even  there  could  they  find  an  asylum;  by 
the  orders  and  in  the  presence  of  Richard,  the  woods  were 
set  on  fire,  and  hundreds  either  perished  in  the  flames  or 
were  suffocated  in  the  smoke. 

Constance,  meanwhile,  could  only  weep  in  her  captivity 
over  the  miseries  of  her  country,  and  tremble  with  all  a 
mother's  fears  for  the  safety  of  her  son.  She  had  placed 
Arthur  under  the  care  of  William  Desroches,  the  seneschal 
of  her  palace,  a  man  of  mature  age,  of  approved  valour,  and 
devotedly  attached  to  her  family.  This  faithful  serv'ant  threw 
himself,  with  his  young  charge,  into  the  fortress  of  Brest, 
where  he  for  some  time  defied  the  power  of  the  English 
king. 

But   notwithstanding  the  brave  resistance  of  the  nobles 


IN  TROD  UC  TION.  2 1 

and  people  of  Bretagne,  they  were  obliged  to  submit  to  the 
conditions  imposed  by  Richard.  By  a  treaty  concluded  in 
1 198,  of  which  the  terms  are  not  exactly  known,  Constance 
was  delivered  from  her  captivity,  though  not  from  her  hus- 
band; but  in  the  following  year,  when  the  death  of  Richard 
had  restored  her  to  some  degree  of  independence,  the  first 
use  she  made  of  it  was  to  divorce  herself  ixom  Randal.  She 
took  this  step  with  her  usual  precipitancy,  not  waiting  for  the 
sanction  of  the  Pope,  as  was  the  custom  in  those  days ;  and 
soon  afterwards  she  gave  her  hand  to  Guy,  Count  de  Thou- 
ars,  a  man  of  courage  and  integrity,  who  for  some  time  main- 
tained the  cause  of  his  wife  and  her  son  against  the  power 
of  England.  Arthur  was  now  fourteen,  and  the  legitimate 
heir  of  all  the  dominions  of  his  uncle  Richard.  Constance 
placed  him  under  the  guardianship  of  the  King  of  France, 
who  knighted  the  young  prince  with  his  own  hand,  and  sol- 
emnly swore  to  defend  his  rights  against  his  usurping  uncle 
John. 

It  is  at  this  moment  that  the  play  of  King  yohn  opens ; 
and  history  is  followed  as  closely  as  the  dramatic  form 
would  allow,  to  the  death  of  John.  The  real  fate  of  poor 
Arthur,  after  he  had  been  abandoned  by  the  French,  and 
had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  his  uncle,  is  now  ascertained  ; 
but  according  to  the  chronicle  from  which  Shakspeare  drew 
his  materials,  he  was  killed  in  attempting  to  escape  from  the 
Castle  of  Falaise.  Constance  did  not  live  to  witness  this 
consummation  of  her  calamities.  Within  a  few  months  after 
Arthur  was  taken  prisoner,  in  1201,  she  died  suddenly,  be- 
fore she  had  attained  her  thirty-ninth  year;  but  the  cause 
of  her  death  is  not  specified. 

Her  eldest  daughter,  Elinor,  the  legitimate  heiress  of  Eng- 
land, Normandy,  and  Bretagne,  died  in  captivity,  having  been 
kept  a  prisoner  in  Bristol  Castle  from  the  age  of  fifteen. 
She  was  at  that  time  so  beautiful  that  she  was  called  pro- 
verbially "  La  belle  Bretonne,"  and  by  the  English  the  "  Fair 


22  KING  JOHN. 

Maid  of  Brittany."  She,  like  her  brother  Arthur,  was  sacri- 
ficed to  the  ambition  of  her  uncles. 

Of  the  two  daughters  of  Constance  by  Guy  de  Thouars, 
the  eldest,  Alice,  became  Duchess  of  Bretagne,  and  married 
the  Count  de  Dreux,  of  the  royal  blood  of  France.  The  sov- 
ereignty of  Bretagne  was  transmitted  through  her  descend- 
ants in  an  uninterrupted  line  till,  by  the  marriage  of  the  cel- 
ebrated Anne  de  Bretagne  with  Charles  VIII.  of  France,  her 
dominions  were  forever  united  with  the  French  monarchy. 

In  considering  the  real  history  of  Constance,  three  things 
must  strike  us  as  chiefly  remarkable. 

First,  that  she  is  not  accused  of  any  vice  or  any  act  of  in- 
justice or  violence ;  and  this  praise,  though  poor  and  nega- 
tive, should  have  its  due  weight,  considering  the  scanty  rec- 
ords that  remain  of  her  troubled  life,  and  the  period  at  which 
she  lived — a  period  in  which  crimes  of  the  darkest  dye  were 
familiar  occui"rences.  Her  father,  Conan,  was  considered  as 
a  gentle  and  amiable  prince — "gentle  even  to  feebleness;" 
yet  we  are  told  that  on  one  occasion  he  acted  over  again  the 
tragedy  of  Ugolino  and  Ruggiero,  when  he  shut  up  the  Count 
de  Del,  with  his  two  sons  and  his  nephew,  in  a  dungeon,  and 
deliberately  starved  them  to  death;  an  event  recorded  with- 
out any  particular  comment  by  the  old  chroniclers  of  Bre- 
tagne. It  also  appears  that,  during  those  intervals  when 
Constance  administered  the  government  of  her  states  with 
some  degree  of  independence,  the  country  prospered  under 
her  sway,  and  that  she  possessed  at  all  times  the  love  of  her 
people  and  the  respect  of  her  nobles. 

Secondly,  no  imputation  whatever  has  been  cast  on  the 
honour  of  Constance  as  a  wife  and  as  a  woman.  The  old 
historians,  who  have  treated  in  a  very  unceremonious  style 
the  levities  of  her  great-grandmother  Matilda,  her  grand- 
mother Bertha,  her  godmother  Constance,  and  her  mother- 
in-law  Elinor,  treat  the  name  and  memory  di  our  Lady  Con- 
stance with  uniform  respect. 


INTR  OD  UC  TION.  2  3 

Her  third  marriage,  with  Guy  de  Thouars,  has  been  cen- 
sured as  impolitic,  but  has  also  been  defended  ;  it  can  hardly, 
considering  her  age,  and  the  circumstances  in  which  she  was 
placed,  be  a  just  subject  of  reproach.  During  her  hated 
union  with  Randal  de  Blondeville,  and  the  years  passed  in  a 
species  of  widowhood,  she  conducted  herself  with  propriety; 
at  least  I  can  find  no  reason  to  judge  otherwise. 

Lastly,  we  are  struck  by  the  fearless,  determined  spirit, 
amounting  at  times  to  rashness,  which  Constance  displayed 
on  several  occasions  when  left  to  the  free  exercise  of  her 
own  power  and  will ;  yet  we  see  how  frequently,  with  all  this 
resolution  and  pride  of  temper,  she  became  a  mere  instru- 
ment in  the  hands  of  others,  and  a  victim  to  the  superior 
craft  or  power  of  her  enemies.  The  inference  is  unavoida- 
ble ;  there  must  have  existed  in  the  mind  of  Constance,  with 
ail  her  noble  and  amiable  qualities,  a  deficiency  somewhere, 
a  want  of  firmness,  a  want  of  judgment  or  wariness,  and  a 
total  want  of  self-control.  .  .  . 

Whenever  we  think  of  Constance,  it  is  in  her  maternal 
character.  All  the  interest  which  she  excites  in  the  drama 
turns  upon  her  situation  as  the  mother  of  Arthur.  Every 
circumstance  in  which  she  is  placed,  every  sentiment  she  ut- 
ters, has  a  reference  to  him  ;  and  she  is  represented  through 
the  whole  of  the  scenes  in  which  she  is  engaged  as  alter- 
nately pleading  for  the  rights  and  trembling  for  the  exist- 
ence of  her  son.  .  .  -(JL^ 

But,  while  we  conteir^ate  the  character  of  Constance,  she 
assumes  before  us  an  individuality  perfectly  distinct  from  the 
circumstances  around  her.  The  action  calls  forth  her  ma- 
ternal feelings,  and  places  them  in  the  most  prominent  point 
of  view ;  but  with  Constance,  as  with  a  real  human  being,  the 
maternal  affections  are  a  powerful  instinct,  modified  by  other 
faculties,  sentiments,  and  impulses,  making  up  the  individual 
character.  We  think  of  her  as  a  mother,  because,  as  a  mother 
distracted  for  the  loss  of  her  son,  she  is  immediately  present- 


24  A7.\'6'  JOHN. 

ed  before  us,  and  calls  forth  our  sympathy  and  our  tears ; 
but  we  infer  the  rest  of  her  character  from  what  we  see,  as 
certainly  and  as  completely  as  if  we  had  known  her  whole 
course  of  life. 

That  which  strikes  us  as  the  principal  attribute  of  Con- 
stance \s power — power  of  imagination,  of  will,  of  passion,  of 
affection,  of  pride.  The  moral  energy,  that  faculty  which  is 
principally  exercised  in  self-control,  and  gives  consistency  to 
the  rest,  is  deficient ;  or,  rather,  to  speak  more  correctly,  the 
extraordinary  development  of  sensibility  and  imagination, 
which  lends  to  the  character  its  rich  poetical  colouring,  leaves 
the  other  qualities  comparatively  subordinate.  Hence  it  is 
that  the  whole  complexion  of  the  character,  notwithstanding 
its  amazing  grandeur,  is  so  exquisitely  feminine.  The  weak- 
ness of  the  woman,  who  by  the  very  consciousness  of  that 
weakness  is  worked  up  to  desperation  and  defiance,  the  fluc- 
tuations of  temper  and  the  bursts  of  sublime  passion,  the  ter- 
rors, the  impatience,  and  the  tears,  are  all  most  true  to  fem- 
inine nature.  The  energy  of  Constance  not  being  based 
upon  strength  of  character,  rises  and  falls  with  the  tide  of 
passion.  Her  haughty  spirit  swells  against  resistance,  and 
is  excited  into  frenzy  by  sorrow  and  disappointment ;  while 
neither  from  her  towering  pride  nor  her  strength  of  intellect 
can  she  borrow  patience  to  submit,  or  fortitude  to  endure. 
It  is,  therefore,  with  perfect  truth  of  nature  that  Constance  is 
first  introduced  as  pleading  for  peace  : 

"  Stay  for  an  answer  to  your  embassy, 
Lest  unadvis'd  you  stain  your  swords  with  blood : 
My  Lord  Chatillon  may  from  England  bring 
Tliat  right  in  peace  which  here  we  urge  in  war ; 
And  then  we  shall  repent  each  drop  of  blood 
That  hot,  rash  haste  so  indirectly  shed." 

And  that  the  same  woman,  when  all  her  passions  are  roused 
by  the  sense  of  injury,  should  afterwards  exclaim, 

War,  war  !    no  peace !   peace  is  to  me  a  war ! —   ' 


INTRODUCTION.  25 

that  she  should  be  ambitious  .for  her  son,  proud  of  his  high 
birth  and  royal  rights,  and  violent  in  defending  them — is  most 
natural ;  but  I  cannot  agree  with  those  who  think  that  in  the 
mind  of  Constance  ambition — that  is,  the  love  of  dominion 
for  its  own  sake — is  either  a  strong  motive  or  a  strong  feel- 
ing ;  it  could  hardly  be  so  where  the  natural  impulses  and 
the  ideal  power  predominate  in  so  high  a  degree.  The  ve- 
hemence with  which  she  asserts  the  just  and  legal  rights  of 
her  son  is  that  of  a  fond  mother  and  a  proud-spirited  woman, 
stung  with  the  sense  of  injury,  and  herself  a  reigning  sov- 
ereign— by  birth  and  right,  if  not  in  fact ;  yet  when  bereaved 
of  her  son,  grief  not  only  "fills  the  room  up  of  her  absent 
child,"  but  seems  to  absorb  every  other  frculty  and  feeling, 
even  pride  and  anger.  It  is  true  that  she  exults  over  him 
as  one  whom  nature  and  fortune  had  destined  to  be  great, 
but  in  her  distraction  for  his  loss  she  thinks  of  him  only  as 
her  "Pretty  Arthur." 

"  O  lord  !   my  boy,  my  Arthur,  my  fair  son  ! 
My  life,  my  joy,  my  food,  my  all  the  world  ! 
My  widow-comfort,  and  my  sorrow's  cure  !" 

No  other  feeling  can  be  traced  through  the  whole  of  her 
frantic  scene  ;  it  is  grief  only — a  mother's  heart-rending, 
soul-absorbing  grief— and  nothing  else.  Not  even  indigna- 
tion or  the  desire  of  revenge  interferes  with  its  soleness  and 
intensity.  An  ambitious  woman  would  hardly  have  thus  ad- 
dressed the  cold,  wily  Cardinal  [iii.  4.  76-89]  : 

"And,  Father  Cardinal,  I  have  heard  you  say, 
That  we  shall  see  and  know  our  friends  in  heaven,"  etc. 

The  bewildered  pathos  and  poetry  of  this  address  could 
be  natural  in  no  woman  who  did  not  unite,  like  Constance, 
the  most  passionate  sensibility  with  the  most  vivid  imagina- 
tion. 

It  is  true  that  Queen  Elinor  calls  her  on  one  occasion 
"ambitious  Constance;"  but  the  epithet  is  rather  the  natu- 


26  KING  JOHN. 

ral  expression  of  Elinor's  own  fear  and  hatred  than  really 
applicable.*  Elinor,  in  whom  age  had  subdued  all  passions 
but  ambition,  dreaded  the  mother  of  Arthur  as  her  rival  in 
power,  and  for  that  reason  only  opposed  the  claims  of  the 
son  ;  but  I  conceive  that  in  a  woman  yet  in  the  prime  of  life, 
and  endued  with  the  peculiar  disposition  of  Constance,  the 
mere  love  of  power  would  be  too  much  modified  by  fancy 
and  feeling  to  be  called  a  passion. 

In  fact,  it  is  not  pride,  nor  temper,  nor  ambition,  nor  even 
maternal  affection  which  in  Constance  gives  the  prevailing 
tone  to  the  whole  character ;  it  is  the  predominance  of  im- 
ao-ination.  I  do  not  mean  in  the  conception  of  the  dramatic 
portrait,  but  in  the  temperament  of  the  woman  herself.  In 
the  poetical,  fanciful,  excitable  cast  of  her  mind,  in  the  excess 
of  the  ideal  power,  tinging  all  her  affections,  exalting  all  her 
sentiments  and  thoughts,  and  animating  the  expression  of 
both,  Constance  can  only  be  compared  to  Juliet. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  through  the  power  of  imagination 
that  when  under  the  influence  of  excited  temper  Constance 
is  not  a  mere  incensed  woman  ;  nor  does  she,  in  the  style 
of  Volumnia,  "lament  in  anger,  Juno-like,"  but  rather  like  a 
sibyl  in  a  fury.  Her  sarcasms  come  down  like  thunderbolts. 
In  her  famous  address  to  Austria  [iii.  i.  114-129]: 

"O  Lymoges  !  O  Austria!   thou  dost  shame 
That  bloody  spoil !  thou  slave  !  thou  wretch  !  thou  coward  !"  etc. 

it  is  as  if  she  had  concentrated  the  burning  spirit  of  scorn 
and  dashed  it  in  his  face  ;  every  word  seems  to  blister  where 
it  falls.  In  the  scolding  scene  between  her  and  Queen  Eli- 
nor [ii.  I.  120  fol.],  the  laconic  insolence  of  the  latter  is  com- 
pletely overborne  by  the  torrent  of  bitter  contumely  which 
bursts  from  the  lips  of  Constance,  clothed  in  the  most  ener- 
getic, and  often  in  the  most  figurative  expressions. 

*  "Queen  Elinor  saw  that  if  he  were  king,  how  his  mother,  Constance, 
would  look  to  bear  the  most  rule  in  the  realm  of  England  till  her  son 
should  come  of  a  lawful  age  to  govern  of  himself."— IIolinshed. 


INTROD  UC  TION. 


27 


And  in  a  very  opposite  mood,  when  struggling  with  the 
consciousness  of  her  own  helpless  situation,  the  same  sus- 
ceptible and  excitable  fancy  still  predominates  [iii.  1. 11-24]. 

It  is  the  power  of  imagination  which  gives  so  peculiar  a 
tinge  to  the  maternal  tenderness  of  Constance  ;  she  not  only 
loves  her  son  with  the  fond  instinct  of  a  mother's  affection, 
but  she  loves  him  with  her  poetical  imagination,  exults  in  his 
beauty  and  his  royal  birth,  hangs  over  him  with  idolatry, 
and  sees  his  infant  brow  already  encircled  with  the  diadem. 
Her  proud  spirit,  her  ardent  enthusiastic  fancy,  and  her  ener- 
getic self-will,  all  combine  with  her  maternal  love  to  give  it 
that  tone  and  character  which  belongs  to  her  only:  hence 
that  most  beautiful  address  to  her  son  [iii.  i.  43  fol.:  "If 
thou,  that  bidd'st  me  be  content,"  etc.],  which,  coming  from 
the  lips  of  Constance,  is  as  full  of  nature  and  truth  as  of 
pathos  and  poetry,  and  which  we  could  hardly  sympathize 
with  in  any  other. 

It  is  this  exceeding  vivacity  of  imagination  which  in  the 
end  turns  sorrow  to  frenzy.  Constance  is  not  only  a  bereaved 
and  doting  mother,  but  a  generous  woman,  betrayed  by  her 
own  rash  confidence ;  in  whose  mind  the  sense  of  injury 
mingling  with  the  sense  of  grief,  and  her  impetuous  temper 
conflicting  with  her  pride,  combine  to  overset  her  reason. 
Yet  she  is  not  mad  :  and  how  admirably,  how  forcibly,  she 
herself  draws  the  distinction  between  the  frantic  violence  of 
uncontrolled  feeling  and  actual  madness  ! — 

"Thou  art  not  holy  to  belie  me  so; 
I  am  not  mad:   this  hair  I  tear  is  mine; 
My  name  is  Constance ;   I  was  Geffrey's  wife ; 
Young  Arthur  is  my  son,  and  he  is  lost : 
I  am  not  mad;   I  would  to  heaven  I  were! 
For  then,  't  is  like  I  should  forget  mvself : 
O,  if  I  could,  what  grief  should  I  forget  !" 

On  the  whole,  it  may  be  said  that  pride  and  maternal  af- 
fection form  the  basis  of  the  character  of  Constance  as  it  is 


2  8  KING  JOHN. 

exhibited  to  us  ;  but  that  these  passions,  in  an  equal  degree 
common  to-  many  human  beings,  assume  their  peculiar  and 
individual  tinge  from  an  extraordinary  development  of  intel- 
lect and  fancy.  It  is  the  energy  of  passion  which  lends  the 
character  its  concentrated  power,  as  it  is  the  prevalence 
of  imagination  throughout  which  dilates  it  into  magnifi- 
cence. 

The  sole  deviation  from  history  which  may  be  considered 
as  essentially  interfering  with  the  truth  of  the  situation  is 
the  entire  omission  of  the  character  of  Guy  de  Thouars,  so 
that  Constance  is  incorrectly  represented  as  in  a  state  of 
widowhood,  at  a  period  when,  in  point  of  fact,  she  was  mar- 
ried. It  may  be  observed  that  her  marriage  took  place  just 
at  the  period  of  the  opening  of  the  drama ;  that  Guy  de 
Thouars  played  no  conspicuous  part  in  the  affairs  of  Bretagne 
till  after  the  death  of  Constance  ;  and  that  the  mere  presence 
of  this  personage,  altogether  superfluous  in  the  action,  would 
have  completely  destroyed  the  dramatic  interest  of  the  situ- 
ation. And  what  a  situation  !  One  more  magnificent  was 
never  placed  before  the  mind's  eye  than  that  of  Constance, 
when  [iii.  i],  deserted  and  betrayed,  she  stands  alone  in  her 
despair,  amid  her  false  friends  and  her  ruthless  enemies  ! 
The  image  of  the  mother-eagle,  wounded  and  bleeding  to 
death,  yet  stretched  over  her  young  in  an  attitude  of  defi- 
ance, while  all  the  baser  birds  of  prey  are  clamouring  around 
her  eyrie,  gives  but  a  faint  idea  of  the  moral  sublimity  of  this 
scene.  Considered  merely  as  a  poetical  or  dramatic  picture, 
the  grouping  is  wonderfully  fine :  on  one  side,  the  vulture 
ambition  of  that  mean-souled  tyrant,  John  ;  on  the  other,  the 
selfish,  calculating  policy  of  Philip  :  between  them,  balancing 
their  passions  in  his  hand,  the  cold,  subtle,  heartless  Legate  ; 
the  fiery,  reckless  Falconbridge  ;  the  princely  Louis  ;  the  still 
unconquered  spirit  of  that  wrangling  queen,  old  Elinor ;  the 
bridal  loveliness  and  modesty  of  Blanche ;  the  boyish  grace 
and  innocence  of  young  Arthur;  and  Constance  in  the  midst 


INTRODUCTION. 


29 


of  them,  in  all  the  state  of  her  great  grief,  a  grand  impersona- 
tion of  pride  and  passion,  helpless  at  once  and  desperate — 
form  an  assemblage  of  figures,  each  perfect  in  its  kind,  and, 
taken  all  together,  not  surpassed  for  the  variety,  force,  and 
splendour  of  the  dramatic  and  picturesque  effect. 

Elinor  of  Guienne  and  Blanche  of  Castile,  who  form  part 
of  the  group  around  Constance,  are  sketches  merely,  but  they 
are  strictly  historical  portraits,  and  full  of  truth  and  spirit. 

At  the  period  when  Shakspeare  has  brought  these  three 
women  on  the  scene  together,  Elinor  of  Guienne  (the  daugh- 
ter of  the  last  Duke  of  Guienne  and  Aquitaine,  and,  like  Con- 
stance, the  heiress  of  a  sovereign  duchy)  was  near  the  close 
of  her  long  various,  and  unquiet  life — she  was  nearly  sev- 
enty :  and,  as  in  early  youth,  her  violent  passions  had  over- 
borne both  principle  and  policy,  so  in  her  old  age  we  see 
the  same  character,  only  modified  by  time  ;  her  strong  in- 
tellect and  love  of  power,  unbridled  by  conscience  or  princi- 
ple, surviving  when  other  passions  were  extinguished,  and 
rendered  more  dangerous  by  a  degree  of  subtlety  and  self- 
command  to  which  her  youth  had  been  a  stranger.  Her  per- 
sonal and  avowed  hatred  for  Constance,  together  with  its 
motives,  are  mentioned  by  the  old  historians.  Holinshed 
expressly  says  that  Queen  Elinor  was  mightily  set  against 
her  grandson  Arthur,  rather  moved  thereto  by  envy  conceived 
against  his  mother  than  by  any  fault  of  the  young  prince,  for 
that  she  knew  and  dreaded  the  high  spirit  of  the  Lady  Con- 
stance. 

Queen  Elinor  preserved  to  the  end  of  her  life  her  influence 
over  her  children,  and  appears  to  have  merited  their  respect. 
While  intrusted  with  the  government,  during  the  absence  of 
Richard  I.,  she  ruled  with  a  steady  hand,  and  made  herself  ex- 
ceedingly popular ;  and  as  long  as  she  lived  to  direct  the  coun- 
sels of  her  son  John,  his  affairs  prospered.  For  that  intem- 
perate jealousy  which  converted  her  into  a  domestic  firebrand, 
there  was  at  least  much  cause,  though  little  excuse.     Elinor 


30  KING  JOHN. 

had  hated  and  wronged  the  husband  of  her  youth  *  and  she 
had  afterwards  to  endure  the  negligence  and  innumerable 
infidelities  of  the  husband  whom  she  passionately  loved  ;t 
"and  so  the  whirligig  of  time  brought  in  his  revenges."  Eli- 
nor died  in  1203,  a  few  months  after  Constance,  and  before 
the  murder  of  Arthur — a  crime  which,  had  she  lived,  would 
probably  never  have  been  consummated;  for  the  nature  of 
Elinor,  though  violent,  had  no  tincture  of  the  baseness  and 
cruelty  of  her  son. 

Blanche  of  Castile  was  the  daughter  of  Alphonso  IX.  of 
"^  Castile,  and  the  granddaughter  of  Elinor.  At  the  time  that 
she  is  introduced  into  the  drama  she  was  about  fifteen,  and 
her  marriage  with  Louis  VIII.,  then  Dauphin,  took  place  in 
the  abrupt  manner  here  represented.  It  is  not  often  that 
political  marriages  have  the  same  happy  result.  We  are 
told  by  the  historians  of  that  time  that  from  the  moment 
Louis  and  Blanche  met  they  were  inspired  by  a  mutual  pas- 
sion, and  that  during  a  union  of  more  than  twenty-six  years 
they  were  never  known  to  differ,  nor  even  spent  more  than  a 
single  day  asunder. 

In  her  exceeding  beauty  and  blameless  reputation  ;  her 
love  for  her  husband,  and  strong  domestic  affections  ;  her 
pride  of  birth  and  rank;  her  feminine  gentleness  of  deport- 
ment ;  her  firmness  of  temper ;  her  religious  bigotry ;  her 
love  of  absolute  power,  and  her  upright  and  conscientious 
administration  of  it,  Blanche  greatly  resembled  Maria  The- 
resa of  Austria.  She  was,  however,  of  a  more  cold  and  cal- 
culating nature  ;  and  in  proportion  as  she  was  less  amiable 
as  a  woman  did  she  rule  more  happily  for  herself  and  others. 

*  Louis  VII.  of  France,  whom  she  was  accustomed  to  call,  in  con- 
tempt, the  monk.  Elinor's  adventures  in  Syria,  whither  she  accompanied 
Louis  on  the  second  Crusade,  would  form  a  romance. 

t  Henry  II.  of  England.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe  that  the 
story  of  Fair  Rosamond,  as  far  as  Elinor  is  concerned,  is  a  mere  inven- 
tion of  some  ballad-maker  of  later  times. 


INTRODUCTION. 


31 


There  cannot  be  a  greater  contrast  than  between  the  acute 
understanding,  the  steady  temper,  and  the  cool,  intriguing 
policy  of  Blanche,  by  which  she  succeeded  in  disuniting  and 
defeating  the  powers  arrayed  against  her  and  her  infant  son, 
and  the  rash  confiding  temper  and  susceptible  imagination 
of  Constance,  which  rendered  herself  and  her  son  easy  vic- 
tims to  the  fraud  or  ambition  of  others.  Blanche,  during 
forty  years,  held  in  her  hands  the  destinies  of  the  greater 
part  of  Europe,  and  is  one  of  the  most  celebrated  names  re- 
corded in  history — but  in  what  does  she  survive  to  us  except 
in  a  name  ?  Nor  history,  nor  fame,  though  "trumpet-tongued," 
could  do  for  her  what  Shakspeare  and  poetry  have  done  for 
Constance.  The  earthly  reign  of  Blanche  is  over,  her  scep- 
tre broken,  and  her  power  departed.  When  will  the  reign 
of  Constance  cease  ?  when  will  her  power  depart  ?  Not 
while  this  world  is  a  world,  and  there  exist  in  it  human 
souls  to  kindle  at  the  touch  of  genius,  and  human  hearts  to 
throb  with  human  sympathies. 

[From  Dowden's  '■^Shakspere.''''*\ 

Setting  aside  Henry  VIII.,  a  play  written  probably  for 
some  special  occasion,  or  upon  some  special  occasion  hand- 
ed over  to  the  dramatist  Fletcher  to  complete  ;  setting  aside 
also  the  somewhat  slight  sketch  of  Edward  IV.  which  ap- 
pears in  3  Henry  VI.  and  in  the  opening  scenes  of  Richard 
III,  six  full-length  portraits  of  kings  of  England  have  been 
left  by  Shakspere.  These  six  fall  into  two  groups  of  three 
each — one  group  consisting  of  studies  of  kingly  weakness, 
the  other  group  of  studies  of  kingly  strength.  In  the  one 
group  stand  King  John,  King  Richard  II.,  and  King  Henry 
VI.  j  in  the  other  King  Henry  IV.,  King  Henry  V.,  and 
King  Richard  III.  John  is  the  royal  criminal,  weak  in  his 
criminality ;  Henry  VI.  is  the  royal  saint,  weak  in  his  saint- 

*  Shakspere :  a  Critical  Study  of  his  Mind  and  Art,  by  Edward  Dow- 
den  (2d  ed.  London,  1S76),  p.  168  t'ol. 


32  I^'I^'G  JOHN. 

liness.  The  feebleness  of  Richard  II.  cannot  be  character- 
ized in  a  word  ;  he  is  a  graceful,  sentimental  monarch. 
Richard  III.,  in  the  other  group,  is  a  royal  criminal,  strong 
in  his  crime.  Henry  IV.,  the  usurping  Bolingbroke,  is  strong 
by  a  fine  craft  in  dealing  with  events,  by  resolution  and  pol- 
icy, by  equal  caution  and  daring.  The  strength  of  Henry  V. 
is  that  of  plain  heroic  magnitude,  thoroughly  sound  and  sub- 
stantial, founded  upon  the  eternal  verities.  Here,  then,  w-e 
may  recognize  the  one  dominant  subject  of  the  histories; 
namely,  how  a  man  may  fail,  and  how  a  man  may  succeed  in 
attaining  a  practical  mastery  of  the  world.  These  plays  are, 
as  Schlegel  has  named  them,  a  "mirror  for  kings;"  and  the 
characters  of  these  plays  all  lead  up  to  Henry  V.,  the  man 
framed  for  the  most  noble  and  joyous  mastery  of  things. 

In  King  yohn  the  hour  of  utmost  ebb  in  the  national  life 
of  Englandis  investigated  by  the  imagination  of  the  poet. 
The  king  reigns  neither  by  warrant  of  a  just  title,  nor,  like 
Bolingbroke,  by  warrant  of  the  right  of  the  strongest.  He 
knows  that  his  house  is  founded  upon  the  sand ;  he  knows 
that  he  has  no  justice  of  God  and  no  virtue  of  man  on  which 
to  rely.  Therefore  he  assumes  an  air  of  authority  and  regal 
grandeur;  but  within  all  is  rottenness  and  shame.  Unlike 
the  bold  usurper  Richard,  John  endeavours  to  turn  away  his 
eyes  from  facts  of  which  he  is  yet  aware ;  he  dare  not  gaze 
into  his  own  wretched  and  cowardly  soul.  When  threatened 
by  France  with  war,  and  now  alone  with  his  mother,  John 
exclaims,  making  an  effort  to  fortify  his  heart,  "  Our  strong 
possession  and  our  right  for  us."  But  Elinor,  with  a  woman's 
courage  and  directness,  forbids  the  unavailing  self-deceit : 

"Your  strong  possession  much  more  than  your  right, 
Or  else  it  must  go  wrong  with  you  and  me." 

King  Richard,  when  he  would  make  away  with  the  young 
princes,  summons  Tyrrel  to  his  presence,  and  inquires  with 
cynical  indifference  to  human  sentiment,  "Dar'st  thou  resolve 


INTRO  D  UC  TION.  3  3 

to  kill  a  friend  of  mine?"  and  when  Tyrrel  accepts  the  com- 
mission, Richard,  in  a  moment  of  undisguised  exultation, 
breaks  forth  with  "Thou  sing'st  sweet  music!"  John  would 
inspire  Hubert  with  his  murderous  purpose  rather  like  some 
vague  influence  than  a  personal  will,  obscurely  as  some  pale 
mist  works  which  creeps  across  the  fields,  and  leaves  blight 
behind  it  in  the  sunshine.  He  trembles  lest  he  should  have 
said  too  much ;  he  trembles  lest  he  should  not  have  said 
enough  ;  at  last  the  nearer  fear  prevails,  and  the  words 
"death,"  "a  grave,"  form  themselves  upon  his  lips.  Having 
touched  a  spring  which  will  produce  assassination,  he  furtive- 
ly withdraws  himself  from  the  mechanism  of  crime.  It  suits 
the  king's  interest  afterwards  that  Arthur  should  be  living, 
and  John  adds  to  his  crime  the  baseness  of  a  miserable  at- 
tempt by  chicanery  and  timorous  sophisms  to  transfer  the 
responsibility  of  murder  from  himself  to  his  instrument  and 
accomplice.  He  would  fain  darken  the  eyes  of  his  con- 
science and  of  his  understanding. 

The  show  of  kingly  strength  and  dignity  in  which  John  is 
clothed  in  the  earlier  scenes  of  the  play  must  therefore  be 
recognized  (although  Shakspere  does  not  obtrude  the  fact) 
as  no  more  than  a  poor  pretence  of  true  regal  strength  and 
honour.  The  fact,  only  hinted  in  these  earlier  scenes,  be- 
comes afterwards  all  the  more  impressive,  when  the  time 
comes  to  show  this  dastard  king,  who  had  been  so  great  in 
the  barter  of  territory,  in  the  sale  of  cities,  in  the  sacrifice  of 
love  and  marriage-truth  to  policy ;  now  changing  from  pale 
to  red  in  the  presence  of  his  own  nobles,  now  vainly  trying  to 
tread  back  the  path  of  crime,  now  incapable  of  enduring  the 
physical  suffering  of  the  hour  of  death.  Sensible  that  he  is 
a  king  with  no  inward  strength  of  justice  or  of  virtue,  John  en- 
deavours to  buttress  up  his  power  with  external  supports; 
against  the  advice  of  his  nobles  he  celebrates  a  second  coro- 
nation, only  forthwith  to  remove  the  crown  from  his  head  and 
place  it  in   the  hands  of  an  Italian  priest.     Pandulph,  "of 

C 


34  KING  JOHN. 

fiiir  Millaine  cardinal,"  who  possesses  the  astuteness  and 
skill  to  direct  the  various  conflicting  forces  of  the  time  to  his 
own  advantage,  Pandulph  is  the  de  facto  master  of  England, 
and  as  he  pleases  makes  peace  or  announces  war. 

The  country,  as  in  periods  of  doubt  and  danger,  was  "  pos- 
sessed with  rumours,  full  of  idle  dreams."  Peter  of  Pomfret 
had  announced  that  before  Ascension-day  at  noon  the  King 
should  deliver  up  his  crown.  John  submits  to  the  degrada- 
tion demanded  of  him,  and  has  the  incredible  baseness  to  be 
pleased  that  he  has  done  so  of  his  own  free  will : 

"Is  this  Ascension-day?  did  not  the  prophet 
Say  that  before  Ascension-day  at  noon 
My  crown  I  should  give  off?     Even  so  I  have. 
I  did  suppose  it  should  be  on  constraint ; 
But,  heaven  be  thank'd !  it  is  but  voluntary." 

After  this  we  are  not  surprised  that  when  the  Bastard  en- 
deavours to  rouse  him  to  manliness  and  resolution— 

"  Away,  and  glister  like  the  god  of  war 
When  he  intendeth  to  become  the  field" — 

John  is  not  ashamed  to  announce  the  "  happy  peace  "  which 
he  has  made  with  the  Papal  legate,  on  whom  he  relies  for 
protection  against  the  invaders  of  England.  Faulconbridge 
still  urges  the  duty  of  an  effort  at  self-defence,  for  the  sake 
of  honour  and  of  safety,  and  the  King,  incapable  of  accept- 
ing  his  own  responsibilities  and  privileges,  hands  over  the 
care  of  England  to  his  illegitimate  nephew — "  Have  thou 
the  ordering  of  this  present  time." 

There  is  little  in  the  play  of  King  yohn  which  strengthens 
or  gladdens  the  heart.  In  the  tug  of  selfish  power,  hither 
and  thither,  amid  the  struggle  of  kingly  greeds  and  priestly 
pride,  amid  the  sales  of  cities,  the  loveless  marriage  of  princes, 
the  rumours  and  confusion  of  the  people,  a  pathetic  beauty 
illumines  the  boyish  figure  of  Arthur,  so  gracious,  so  passive, 
untouched  by  the  rapacities  and  crimes  of  the  others: 


INTRODUCTION.  3^ 

"  Good  my  mother,  peace  ! 
I  would  that  I  were  low  laid  in  my  grave ; 
I  am  not  worth  this  coil  that  's  made  for  me." 

The  voice  of  maternal  passion,  a  woman's  voice  impotent 
and  shrill,  among  the  unheeding  male  forces,  goes  up  also 
from  the  play.  There  is  the  pity  of  stern,  armed  men  for 
the  ruin  of  a  child's  life.  These,  and  the  boisterous  but  sfen- 
uine  and  hearty  patriotism  of  Faulconbridge,  are  the  only 
presences  of  human  virtue  or  beauty  which  are  to  be  per- 
ceived in  the  degenerate  world  depicted  by  Shakspere.  And 
the  end,  like  what  preceded  it,  is  miserable.  The  king  lies 
poisoned,  overmastered  by  mere  physical  agony,  agony  which 
leaves  little  room  for  any  pangs  of  conscience,  were  the  pal- 
sied moral  nature  of  the  criminal  capable  of  such  nobler  suf- 
fering : 

"  I  am  a  scribbled  form,  drawn  with  a  pen 

Upon  a  parchment,  and  against  this  fire 

Do  I  shrink  up." 

\From  Mr.  F.  J.  FurtiivalPs  Introduction  to  the  FIay.*'\ 

With  this  play  of  pathos  and  patriotism  we  open  Shak- 
spere's  Second  Period, — looking  on  Richard  II.  as  the  last 
play  in  which  ryme  plays  a  prominent  part,  we  take  the  series 
oi  Henry  VI,.  and  Richard  III.  as  the  transition  to  the  Sec- 
ond Period  ; — and  on  opening  it  we  are  struck  with  a  greater 
fulness  of  characterization  and  power  than  we  saw  in  the 
First-Period  plays.  But  the  whole  work  of  Shakspere  is  con- 
tinuous. King  yohn  is  very  closely  linkt  with  Richard  III 
In  both  plays  we  have  cruel  uncles  planning  their  nephews' 
murder, because  the  boys  stand  between  them  and  the  crown. 
In  both  we  have  distracted  mothers  overwhelmd  with  srief 
In  both  we  have  prophecies  of  ruin  and  curses  on  the  mur- 
derers, and  in  both  the  fulfilment  of  these.  In  both  we  have 
the  kingdom  divided  against  itself,  and  the  horrors  of  civil 
*  The  Leofold  Shakspere  (London,  1877),  p.  xl. 


36  KING  JOHN. 

war.  In  both  we  have  the  same  lesson  of  the  danger  of  di- 
vision  taught  to  the  discontented  English  parties  of  Shak- 
spere's  own  day.  Richard  III.  is  an  example  of  the  misgov- 
ernment  of  a  cruel  tyrant;  Kitig  John  of  the  misgovernment 
of  a  selfish  coward.  But  in  John  we  have  the  mother's  pa- 
thetic lament  for  her  child  far  developt  above  that  of  Queen 
Elizabeth's  for  her  murderd  innocents,  and  far  more  touch- 
ing than  the  laments  of  Queen  Margaret  and  the  Duchess 
of  York,  while  the  pathos  of  the  stifled  children's  death  is 
heightend  in  that  of  Arthur.  The  temptation  scene  of  John 
and  Hubert  repeats  that  of  Richard  and  Tyrrel.  The  Bas- 
tard's statement  of  his  motives,  "Gain,  be  my  lord,"  etc.,  is 
like  that  of  Richard  the  Third's  about  his  villany.  (The 
Bastard's  speech  on  commodity  may  be  compard  with  Lu- 
crece's  reproaches  to  opportunity.)  Besides  the  boy's  plead- 
ing for  his  life,  besides  his  piteous  death  and  the  mother's 
cry  for  him,  which  comes  home  to  every  parent  who  has  lost 
a  child,  we  have  in  the  play  the  spirit  of  Elizabethan  Eng- 
land's defiance  to  the  foreigner*  and  the  Pope.  King  John 
is  founded  on  the  old  play  of  The  Troublesome  Raigne  of 
King  John,  1591.!     Shakspere  alters  the  old  play  in  eight 

*  "  The  great  lesson  taught  in  the  last  lines  of  the  play  should  be  more 
brought  out.  King,  nobles,  claimant,  all  lean  on  foreign  help,  and  all  find 
it  a  broken  reed  which  pierces  their  hands."— C.  Hargrove.  Besides  the 
passage  usually  cited  from  Andrew  Boorde  for  these  last  lines,  he  has  an- 
other nearer  to  Shakspere's  words  :  "  I  think  if  all  the  world  were  set 
against  England,  it  might  neuer  be  conquered,  they  beyng  treue  within 
them  selfe," — 1542  (pr.  1547),  Introduclion,  p.  164  of  my  ed.  1870. 

t  It  is  the  old  play,  re-written.  The  two  t/uist  be  read  together  and 
compard,  to  see  what  genius  makes  out  of  ordinary  work.  The  extreme 
Protestant  tone  of  the  old  play  is  much  modified  by  Shakspere.  And  as 
Prof.  Delius  notices  (Nezv  Shakspere  Society s  Transactions,  1875-6,  Part 
II.),  Shakspere  only  tells  certain  incidents  that  the  old  play  acts,  as  Fal- 
conbridge  ransacking  the  churches,  arresting  Peter  of  Pomfret  on  the 
stage  ;  John's  meal  and  poisoning,  the  death  of  the  monk  who  poisons 
him,  and  Falconbridge's  stabbing  the  abbot.  Falconbridge's  soliloquies 
are  new  too.     On  the  many  variations  from  history  in  King  John,  see 


INTRODUCTION. 


37 


chief  political  points, — as  shown  by  Mr.  Richard  Simpson  in 
the  Neiv  Shakspere  Societys  Tratisactions,  1874,* — in  order 
to  bring  the  play  closer  home  to  his  hearers,  and  the  circum- 
stances of  his  time, — the  disputed  succession  of  Elizabeth, 

T.  P.  Courtenay's  Comvientaries  on  the  Historical  Plays  of  Shakspere,  two 
vols.  Colbuin,  1840,  a  book  indispensable  to  the  student  of  these  plays. 
The  old  Troublesome  Raigne  of  1594  is  reprinted  in  Hazlitt's  Shakspere' s 
Library,  Part  II.  vol.  i.  p.  212  [also  in  Fleay's  ed.  oi  King  yohii\, 

*  These  points  are  stated  by  Mr.  Simpson  thus  : 

"  I.  In  Shakspere,  John  is  told  by  his  own  mother  that  he  must  rely 
on  his  'strong  possession,'  not  on  his  right;  and  the  suggestion  of  the 
old  play  that  Arthur,  being  'but  young  and  yet  unmeet  to  reign,'  was 
therefore  to  be  passed  over,  is  thrown  out. 

2.  Elinor  tells  Constance  that  she  can  '  produce  a  will  that  bars  the 
title'  of  Arthur. 

3.  History  is  altered  to  heighten  and  refine  the  characters  of  Arthur 
and  Constance. 

4.  John's  loss  of  his  French  possessions  is  accentuated  by  the  exag- 
geration of  the  dowry  given  to  Blanch. 

5.  The  scenes  where  John  first  persuades  Hubert  to  murder  Arthur, 
and  then  reproaches  him  for  it,  are  inventions  of  Shakspere. 

6.  The  compression  of  John's  four  wars  into  two,  though  absolutely 
necessary  for  dramatic  arrangement,  is  so  managed  as  to  have  an  Eliza- 
bethan bearing.  Of  these  two  wars  the  poet  makes  the  first  to  concern 
Arthur's  title,  without  any  religious  or  ecclesiastical  motive.  The  second 
he  makes  to  be  in  revenge  for  Arthur's  death,  with  an  ecclesiastical  mo- 
tive added  in  John's  excommunication.  This  is  wholly  unhistorical.  No 
English  lord  interfered  in  behalf  of  Arthur,  whose  death  raised  no  com- 
motion in  England,  and  was  long  past  and  forgotten  before  the  con- 
troversy with  the  pope  about  Langton  began.  The  confederacy  between 
the  barons  and  Lewis  was  ten  years  after  Arthur's  death,  with  which  it 
had  nothing  to  do.  .  .  . 

7.  Pandulph  insinuates  to  Lewis  that  it  is  his  interest  to  abstain  from 
interference  till  John's  murder  of  his  nephew  should  make  interference 
profitable  to  himself. 

8.  Melun's  confession  of  Lewis's  intended  treachery  to  the  barons  is 
the  occasion  of  their  return  to  allegiance. 

Every  one  of  these  points,  in  which  the  poet  deviates  from  the  Chron- 
icles, is  so  turned  as  to  contain  indirect  references  and  allusions  to  con- 
temporary politics,  or  to  events  which  had  a  decisive  influence  on  them." 
— Ed. 


3^  KING  JOHN. 

and  the  interference  of  Spain  and  the  Pope.  The  old  play- 
writer  made  the  murder  of  Arthur,  as  Mr.  Lloyd  has  notist,* 
the  turning-point  between  the  high-spirited  success  of  John 
at  first  and  his  dejection  and  disgrace  at  last ;  and  he,  too, 
fixt  on  the  assertion  of  national  independence  against  in- 
vading Frenchmen  and  encroaching  ecclesiastics  as  the  true 
principle  of  dramatic  action  of  John's  time.  So  long  as  John 
is  the  impersonator  of  England,  of  defiance  to  the  foreigner, 
and  opposition  to  the  Pope,  so  long  is  he  a  hero.  But  he  is 
bold  outside  only,  only  politically;  inside,  morally,  he  is  a 
coward,  sneak,  and  skunk.  See  how  his  nature  comes  out 
in  the  hints  for  the  murder  of  Arthur,  his  turning  on  Hubert 
when  he  thinks  the  murder  will  bring  evil  to  himself,  and  his 
imploring  Falconbridge  to  deny  it.  His  death  ought,  of 
course,  dramatically  to  have  followd  from  some  act  of  his 
in  the  play,  as  revenge  for  the  murder  of  Arthur,  or  his  plun- 
dering the  abbots  or  abbeys,  or  opposing  the  Pope.  The 
author  of  The  Troiiblesovie  Raigne,  with  a  true  instinct,  made 
a  monk  murder  John  out  of  revenge  for  his  anti-Papal  patri- 
otism. But  Shakspere,  unfortunately,  set  this  story  aside, 
though  there  was  some  warrant  for  it  in  Holinshed,  and  thus 
left  a  serious  blot  on  his  drama  which  it  is  impossible  to  re- 
move. The  character  which  to  me  stands  foremost  in  jfohn 
is  Constance,  with  that  most  touching  expression  of  grief  for 
the  son  she  had  lost.  Beside  her  cry,  the  tender  pleading 
of  Arthur  for  his  life  is  heard,  and  both  are  backt  by  the 
rough  voice  of  Falconbridge,  who.  Englishman-like,  depreci- 
ates his  own  motives  at  first,  but  is  lifted  by  patriotism  into 
a  gallant  soldier,  while  his  deep  moral  nature  shows  itself  in 
his  heartfelt  indignation  at  Arthur's  supposd  murder.  The 
rhetoric  of  the  earlier  historical  plays  is  kept  up  in  King 
yohn,  and  also  Shakspere's  power  of  creating  situations, 
which  he  had  possesst  from  the  first. 

*  Critical  Essays,  G.  Bell  and  Sons,  London,  1875. 


^  ^ 


DRAMATIS  PERSON.^. 


King  John. 

Prince  Henry,  son  to  the  king. 

Arthur,  Duke  of  Bretagne,  nephew  to  the  king. 

The  Earl  of  Pembroke. 

The  Earl  of  Essex. 

The  Earl  of  Salisbury. 

The  Lord  Bigot. 

Hubert  de  Burgh. 

Robert  Faulconbridge,  son  to  Sir  Robert  Faulcon- 

bridge. 
Philip  the  Bastard,  his  half-brother. 
James  Gurney,  servant  to  Lady  Faulconbridge. 
Peter  of  Pomfret,  a  prophet. 

Philip,  King  of  France. 

Lewis,  the  Dauphin. 

LvMOGES,  Duke  of  Austria. 

Cardinal  Pandulph,  the  Pope's  legate. 

Melun,  a  Frencli   Lord. 

Chatillon,  ambassador  from  France  to  King  John. 

Queen  Elinor,  mother  to  Ki:ig  John. 
Constance,  mother  to  Arthur. 
Blanch  of  Spain,  niece  to  King  John. 
Lady  Faulconbridge. 

Lords,  Citizens  of  Angiers,  Sheriff,  Heralds,  Officers, 
Soldiers,  Messengers,  and  other  Attendants. 

Scene  :   Partly  in  England  and  partly  in  France. 


ROOM  OF  STATE  IN  THE  PALACE, 


ACT   I. 

Scene  I.     A7;/^  yoJui's  Palace. 

Enter  King  John,  Queen  Elinor,  Pembroke,  Essex,  Salis- 
bury, and  others,  with  Chatillon. 

King  John.  Now,  say,  Chatillon,  what  would  France  wiih 


us : 


Chatillon.  Thus,  after  greeting,  speaks  the  King  of  France 


42  KING  JOHN. 

In  my  behaviour  to  the  majesty, 

The  borrowed  majesty,  of  England  here. 

Elinor.  A  strange  beginning! — borrowed  majesty! 

King  John.  Silence,  good  mother;  hear  the  embassy. 

Chatillon.  Philip  of  France,  in  right  and  true  behalf 
Of  thy  deceased  brother  Geffrey's  son, 
Arthur  Plantagenet,  lays  most  lawful  claim 
To  this  fair  island  and  the  territories,  lo 

To  Ireland,  Poictiers,  Anjou,  Touraine,  Maine, 
Desiring  thee  to  lay  aside  the  sword 
Which  sways  usurpingly  these  several  titles, 
And  put  the  same  into  young  Arthur's  hand, 
Thy  nephew  and  right  royal  sovereign. 

Kifig  John.  What  follows  if  we  disallow  of  this? 

Chatillon.  The  proud  control  of  fierce  and  bloody  war. 
To  enforce  these  rights  so  forcibly  withheld. 

King  John.  Here  have   we  war  for  war  and  blood   for 
blood, 
Controlment  for  controlment:  so  answer  France.  20 

Chatillon.  Then  take  my  king's  defiance  from  my  mouth, 
The  farthest  limit  of  my  embassy. 

King  John.  Bear  mine  to  him,  and  so  depart  in  peace. 
Be  thou  as  lightning  in  the  eyes  of  France; 
For  ere  thou  canst  report  I  will  be  there, 
The  thunder  of  my  cannon  shall  be  heard. 
So  hence  !     Be  thou  the  trumpet  of  our  wrath 
And  sullen  presage  of  your  own  decay. — 
An  honourable  conduct  let  him  have; 

Pembroke,  look  to  't. — Farewell,  Chatillon.  .   30 

\Exeunt  Chatillon  and  Pembroke. 

Elinor.  What  now,  my  son  !  have  I  not  ever  said 
How  ihat  ambitious  Constance  would  not  cease 
Till  she  had  kindled  France  and  all  the  world, 
Upon  the  right  and  party  of  her  son  ? 
This  might  have  been  prevented  and  made  whole 


ACT  I.     SCENE  /.  43 

With  very  easy  arguments  of  love, 

Which  now  the  manage  of  two  kingdoms  must 

With  fearful  bloody  issue  arbitrate. 

King  John.  Our  strong  possession  and  our  right  for  us. 

Elinor.  Your  strong  possession    much    more  than    your 
right,  40 

Or  else  it  must  go  wrong  with  you  and  me ; 
So  much  my  conscience  whispers  in  your  ear, 
Which  none  but  heaven  and  you  and  I  shall  hear. 

Enter  a  Sheriff. 

Essex.  My  liege,  here  is  the  strangest  controversy 
Come  from  the  country  to  be  judg'd  by  you 
That  e'er  I  heard ;  shall  I  produce  the  men  .* 

King  John.  Let  them  approach. — 
Our  abbeys  and  our  priories  shall  pay 
This  expedition's  charge. — 

Enter  Robert  Faulconbr-dge,  and  Philip  his  bastard 

brother. 

What  men  are  you  ? 

Bastard.  Your  faithful  subject  I,  a  gentleman  so 

Born  in  Northamptonshire,  and  eldest  son. 
As  I  suppose,  to  Robert  Faulconbridge, — 
A  soldier,  by  the  honour-giving  hand 
Of  Coeur-de-lion  knighted  in  the  field. 

King  John.  What  art  thou  ? 

Robert.  The  son  and  heir  to  that  same  Faulconbridge. 

King  John.  Is  that  the  elder,  and  art  thou  the  heir.? 
You  came  not  of  one  mother  then,  it  seems. 

Bastard.  Most  certain  of  one  mother,  mighty  king — 
That  is  well  known — and,  as  I  think,  one  father;  60 

But  for  the  certain  knowledge  of  that  truth 
I  put  you  o'er  to  heaven  and  to  my  mother : 
Of  that  I  doubt,  as  all  men's  children  may. 


44  KING  JOHN. 

Elinor.  Out  on   thee,  rude  man  !   thou  dost   shame    thy 
mother 
And  wound  her  honour  with  this  diffidence. 

Bastard.   I,  madam  ?  no,  I  have  no  reason  for  it : 
That  is  my  brother's  plea  and  none  of  mine; 
The  which  if  he  can  prove,  a'  pops  me  out 
At  least  from  fair  five  hundred  pound  a  year. 
Heaven  guard  my  mother's  honour — and  my  land  !  70 

King  jfohn.  A  good  blunt  fellow. — Why,  being  younger 
born, 
Doth  he  lay  claim  to  thine  inheritance? 

Bastard.  I  know  not  why,  except  to  get  the  land. 
But  once  he  slander'd  me  with  bastardy : 
But  whether  I  be  as  true  begot  or  no, 
That  still  I  lay  upon  my  mother's  head  ; 
But  that  I  am  as  well  begot,  my  liege, — 
Fair  fall  the  bones  that  took  the  pains  for  me  ! — 
Compare  our  faces  and  be  judge  yourself. 
If  old  Sir  Robert  did  beget  us  both  8° 

And  were  our  father,  and  this  son  like  him, — 

0  old  Sir  Robert,  father,  on  my  knee 

1  give  heaven  thanks  I  was  not  like  to  thee  ! 

King  John.  Why,  what  a  madcap  hath  heaven  lent  us  here! 

Elitior.   He  hath  a  trick  of  Coeur-de-lion's  face; 
The  accent  of  his  tongue  affecteth  him. 
Do  you  not  read  some  tokens  of  my  son 
In  the  large  composition  of  this  man? 

Kifig  John.  Mine  eye  hath  well  examined  his  parts, 
And  finds  them  perfect  Richard.— Sirrah,  speak,  9° 

What  doth  move  you  to  claim  your  brother's  land? 

Bastard.  Because  he  hath  a  half-face,  like  my  father, 
With  that  half-face  would  he  have  all  my  land; 
A  half-fac'd  groat  five  hundred  pound  a  year  ! 

Robert.  My  gracious  liege,  when  that  my  father  liv'd, 
Your  brother  did  employ  my  father  much, — 


ACT  I.     SCENE  I. 


45 


Bastard.  Well,  sir,  by  this  you  cannot  get  my  land ; 
Your  tale  must  be  how  he  employ'd  my  mother. 

Robert.   And  once  dispatch'd  him  in  an  embassy 
To  Germany,  there  with  the  emperor  loo 

To  treat  of  high  affairs  touching  that  time. 
The  advantage  of  his  absence  took  the  king 
And  in  the  mean  time  sojourn'd  at  my  father's; 
Where  how  he  did  prevail  I  shame  to  speak. 
But  truth  is  truth  :  large  lengths  of  seas  and  shores 
Between  my  father  and  my  mother  lay, 
As  I  have  heard  my  father  speak  himself, 
When  this  same  lusty  gentleman  was  got. 
Upon  his  death-bed  he  by  will  bequeath'd 
His  lands  to  me,  and  took  it  on  his  death  no 

That  this  my  mother's  son  was  none  of  his; 
And  if  he  were,  he  came  into  the  world 
Full  fourteen  weeks  before  the  course  of  time. 
Then,  good  my  liege,  let  me  have  what  is  mine, 
My  father's  land,  as  was  my  father's  will. 

King  John.   Sirrah,  your  brother  is  legitimate  : 
Your  father's  wife  did  after  wedlock  bear  him, 
And  if  she  did  play  false,  the  fault  was  hers; 
Which  fault  lies  on  the  hazards  of  all  husbands 
That  marry  wives      Tell  me,  how  if  my  brother,  120 

Who,  as  you  say,  took  pains  to  get  this  son, 
Had  of  your  father  claim'd  this  son  for  his? 
In  sooth,  good  friend,  your  father  might  have  kept 
This  calf  bred  from  his  cow  from  all  the  world ; 
In  sooth  he  might :  then,  if  he  were  my  brother's, 
My  brother  might  not  claim  him,  nor  your  father. 
Being  none  of  his,  refuse  him.     This  concludes  : 
My  mother's  son  did  get  your  father's  heir; 
Your  fiither's  heir  must  have  your  father's  land. 

Robert.  Shall  then  my  father's  will  be  of  no  force  130 

To  dispossess  that  child  which  is  not  his  ? 


46  KING  JOHN. 

Bastard.  Of  no  more  force  to  dispossess  me,  sir, 
Than  was  his  will  to  get  me,  as  I  think. 

Elinor.  Whether  hadst  thou  rather  be  a  Faulconbridge, 
And  like  thy  brother,  to  enjoy  thy  land, 
Or  the  reputed  son  of  CcEur-de-lion, 
Lord  of  thy  presence  and  no  land  beside  ? 

Bastard.  Madam,  an  if  my  brother  had  my  shape, 
And  I  had  his,  Sir  Robert's  his,  like  him ; 
And  if  my  legs  were  two  such  riding-rods,  140 

My  arms  such  eel-skins  stuff'd,  my  face  so  thin 
That  in  mine  ear  I  durst  not  stick  a  rose 
Lest  men  should  say  '  Look,  where  three-farthings  goes  !" 
And,  to  his  shape,  were  heir  to  all  this  land, 
Would  I  might  never  stir  from  off  this  place, 
I  would  give  it  every  foot  to  have  this  face ; 
I  would  not  be  Sir  Nob  in  any  case. 

Elinor.  I  like  thee  well.     Wilt  thou  forsake  thy  fortune, 
Bequeath  thy  land  to  him,  and  follow  me  ? 
I  am  a  soldier,  and  now  bound  to  France.  150 

Bastard.  Brother,  take  you  my  land,  I  '11  take  my  chance. 
Your  face  hath  got  five  hundred  pound  a  year. 
Yet  sell  your  face  for  five  pence  and  't  is  dear. — 
Madam,  I  '11  follow  you  unto  the  death. 

Elinor.  Nay,  I  would  have  you  go  before  me  thither. 

Bastard.  Our  country  manners  give  our  betters  way. 

King  John.  What  is  thy  name  ? 

Bastard.   Philip,  my  liege,  so  is  my  name  begun; 
Philip,  good  old  Sir  Robert's  wife's  eldest  son. 

King  John.  From  henceforth  bear  his  name  whose  form 
thou  bear'st ;  '60 

Kneel  thou  down  Philip,  but  arise  more  great. 
Arise  Sir  Richard  and  Plantagenet. 

Bastard.  Brother,  by   the   mother's   side,  give   me   your 
hand; 
My  father  gave  me  honour,  yours  gave  land. — 


ACT  I.     SCENE  I. 


47 


Now  blessed  be  the  hour,  by  night  or  day, 
When  I  was  got,  Sir  Robert  was  away ! 

Elinor.  The  very  spirit  of  Plantagenet ! 
I  am  thy  grandam,  Richard ;  call  me  so. 

Bastard.    Madam,  by   chance    but    not   by   truth ;    what 
though  ? 
Something  about,  a  little  from  the  right,  17° 

In  at  the  window,  or  else  o'er  the  hatch ; 
Who  dares  not  stir  by  day  must  walk  by  night, 

And  have  is  have,  however  men  do  catch: 
Near  or  far  off,  well  won  is  still  well  shot, 
And  I  am  I,  howe'er  I  was  begot. 

King  John.  Go,  Faulconbridge  :  now  hast  thou  thy  de- 
sire; 
A  landless  knight  makes  thee  a  landed  squire. — 
Come,  madam,  and  come,  Richard,  we  must  speed 
For  France,  for  France,  for  it  is  more  than  need. 

Bastard.  Brother,  adieu ;  good  fortune  come  to  thee!      180 
For  thou  wast  got  i'  the  way  of  honesty. 

\Exeunt  all  but  Bastard. 
A  foot  of  honour  better  than  I  was. 
But  many  a  many  foot  of  land  the  worse. 
Well,  now  can  I  make  any  Joan  a  lady. 
'  Good  den.  Sir  Richard  !' — '  God-a-mercy,  fellow  !' — 
And  if  his  name  be  George,  I  "11  call  him  Peter; 
For  new-made  honour  doth  forget  men's  names : 
'T  is  too  respective  and  too  sociable 
For  your  conversion.     Now  your  traveller,^ 
He  and  his  toothpick  at  my  worship's  mess,  190 

And  when  my  knightly  stomach  is  suffic'd, 
Why  then  I  suck  my  teeth  and  catechise 
My  picked  man  of  countries  :  '  My  dear  sir,' — 
Thus,  leaning  on  mine  elbow,  I  begin, — 
'  I  shall  beseech  you' — that  is  question  now; 
And  then  comes  answer  like  an  Absey  book  : 


48  KING  JOHN. 

'  O  sir,'  says  answer,  '  at  your  best  command; 

At  your  employment;  at  your  service,  sir:' — 

'  No,  sir,'  says  question,  '  I,  sweet  sir,  at  yours :' — 

And  so,  ere  answer  knows  what  question  would, 

Saving  in  dialogue  of  compliment, 

And  talking  of  the  Alps  and  Apennines, 

The  Pyrenean  and  the  river  Po, 

It  draws  toward  supper  in  conclusion  so. 

But  this  is  worshipful  society 

And  fits  the  mounting  spirit  like  myself. 

For  he  is  but  a  bastard  to  the  time 

That  doth  not  smack  of  observation  : 

And  so  am  I,  whether  I  smack  or  no; 

And  not  alone  in  habit  and  device, 

Exterior  form,  outward  accoutrement. 

But  from  the  inward  motion  to  deliver 

Sweet,  sweet,  sweet  poison  for  the  age's  tooth ; 

Which,  though  I  will  not  practise  to  deceive, 

Yet,  to  avoid  deceit,  I  mean  to  learn, 

For  it  shall  strew  the  footsteps  of  my  rising. — 

But  who  comes  in  such  haste  in  riding-robes  ? 

What  woman-post  is  this  ?  hath  she  no  husband 

That  will  take  pains  to  blow  a  horn  before  her.? 

Enter  Lady  Faulconbridge  a7id  James  Gurney, 
Ome!  it  is  my  mother. — How  now,  good  lady! 
What  brings  you  here  to  court  so  hastily  ? 

Lady  Faulconbridge.  Where    is    that   slave,  thy   brother  t 
where  is  he. 
That  holds  in  chase  mine  honour  up  and  down  ? 

Bastard.  My  brother  Robert  ?  old  Sir  Robert's  son  ? 
Colbrand  the  giant,  that  same  mighty  man  ? 
Is  it  Sir  Robert's  son  that  you  seek  so.? 

Lady  Faulconbridge.  Sir  Robert's  son  !     Ay,  thou  unrever- 
end  boy,  , 


220 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I.  49 

Sir  Robert's  son;  why  scorn'st  thou  at  Sir  Robert? 

He  is  Sir  Robert's  son,  and  so  art  thou.  22c 

Bastard.  James  Gurney,  wilt  thou  give  us  leave  awhile  ? 

Gurney.  Good  leave,  good  Philip. 

Bastard.  Philip  !  sparrow !     James, 

There  's  toys  abroad;  anon  I  'II  tell  thee  more. — 

\Exit  Gurney. 
Madam,  I  was  not  old  Sir  Robert's  son; 
Sir  Robert  might  have  eat  his  part  in  me 
Upon  Good-Friday  and  ne'er  broke  his  fast. 
Sir  Robert  could  do  well ;  marry,  to  confess, 
Could  he  get  me.-*     Sir  Robert  could  not  do  it; 
We  know  his  handiwork  :  therefore,  good  mother, 
To  whom  am  I  beholding  for  these  limbs  .-* 
Sir  Robert  never  holp  to  make  this  leg.  240 

Lady  Faidcoiibridge.   Hast  thou  conspired  with  thy  brother 
too. 
That  for  thine  own  gain  shouldst  defend  mine  honour? 
What  means  this  scorn,  thou  most  untoward  knave? 

Bastard.  Knight,  knight,  good  mother,  Basilisco-like. 
What !     I  am  dubb'd  !     I  have  it  on  my  shoulder. 
But,  mother,  I  am  not  Sir  Robert's  son  : 
I  have  disclaim'd  Sir  Robert  and  my  land; 
Legitimation,  name,  and  all  is  gone. 
Then,  good  my  mother,  let  me  know  my  father. — 
Some  proper  man,  I  hope;  who  was  it,  mother?  250 

Lady  Fauko7ibridgc.   Hast  thou  denied  thyself  a  Faulcon- 
bridge  ? 

Bastard.  As  faithfully  as  I  deny  the  devil. 

Lady  Faulconbridge.  King  Richard  Cceur-de-lion  was  thy 
father ; 
By  long  and  vehement  suit  I  was  seduc'd. — 
Heaven  lay  not  my  transgression  to  my  charge  ! 
Thou  art  the  issue  of  my  dear  offence. 
Which  was  so  strongly  urg'd  past  my  defence. 

D 


t^o 


KING  JOHiV. 


Baslard.   Now,  by  this  light,  were  I  to  get  again, 
Madam,  I  would  not  wish  a  better  father. 
Some  sins  do  bear  their  privilege  on  earth, 
And  so  doth  yours ;  your  fault  was  not  your  folly  : 
Needs  must  you  lay  your  heart  at  his  dispose, 
Subjected  tribute  to  commanding  love, 
Against  whose  fury  and  unmatched  force 
The  aweless  lion  could  not  wage  the  fight. 
Nor  keep  his  princely  heart  from  Richard's  hand. 
He  that  perforce  robs  lions  of  their  hearts 
May  easily  win  a  woman's.     Ay,  my  mother. 
With  all  my  heart  I  thank  thee  for  my  father ! 
Who  lives  and  dares  but  say  thou  didst  not  well 
When  I  was  got,  I  '11  send  his  soul  to  hell. 
Come,  lady,  I  will  show  thee  to  my  kin ; 

And  they  shall  say,  when  Richard  me  begot, 
If  thou  hadst  said  him  nay,  it  had  been  sin  : 

Who  says  it  was,  he  lies;  I  say  't  was  not. 


260 


270 


\Exeiint. 


ANGIERS. 


ACT   II. 

Scene  I.     France.     Before  Atigiers. 

Enter  Austria  and  forces,  drums,  etc.,  on  one  side :  on  the  oth- 
er King  Philip  of  France  and  his  power ;  Lewis,  Arthur, 
Constance,  and  attcndajits. 

King  Philip.  Before  Angiers  well  met,  brave  Austria. — 
Arthur,  that  great  forerunner  of  thy  blood, 
Richard,  that  robb'd  the  lion  of  his  heart 
And  fought  the  holy  wars  in  Palestine, 
By  this  brave  duke  came  early  to  his  grave  ; 
And  for  amends  to  his  posterity, 
At  our  importance  hither  is  he  come. 


52 


KING  JOHX. 


To  spread  his  colours,  boy,  in  thy  behalf, 

And  to  rebuke  the  usurpation 

Of  thy  unnatural  uncle,  English  John  :  lo 

Embrace  him,  love  him,  give  him  welcome  hither. 

Arthur.  God  shall  forgive  you  Coeur-de-lion's  death 
The  rather  that  you  give  his  offspring  life, 
Shadowing  their  right  under  your  wings  of  war. 
I  give  you  welcome  with  a  powerless  hand, 
But  with  a  heart  full  of  unstained  love  ; 
Welcome  before  the  gates  of  Anglers,  duke. 

King  Philip.  A  noble  boy  !    Who  would  not  do  thee  right? 

Austria.  Upon  thy  cheek  lay  I  this  zealous  kiss. 
As  seal  to  this  indenture  of  my  love,  20 

That  to  my  home  I  will  no  more  return, 
Till  Anglers  and  the  right  thou  hast  in  France, 
Together  with  that  pale,  that  white-fac'd  shore, 
Whose  foot  spurns  back  the  ocean's  roaring  tides 
And  coops  from  other  lands  her  islanders, — 
Even  till  that  England,  hedg'd  in  with  the  main, 
That  water-walled  bulwark,  still  secure 
And  confident  from  foreign  purposes, — 
Even  till  that  utmost  corner  of  the  west 
Salute  thee  for  her  king  ;  till  then,  fair  boy,  •  30 

Will  I  not  think  of  home,  but  follow  arms. 

Cotistance.  O,  take  his  mother's  thanks,  a  widow's  thanks, 
Till  your  strong  hand  shall  help  to  give  him  strength 
To  make  a  more  requital  to  your  love  ! 

Austria.  The  peace  of  heaven  is  theirs  that  lift  their  swords 
In  such  a  just  and  charitable  war. 

Kifig  Philip.  Well  then,  to  work.     Our  cannon  shall  be 
bent 
Against  the  brows  of  this  resisting  town. — 
Call  for  our  chiefest  men  of  discipline, 

To  cull  the  plots  of  best  advantages.  4° 

We  '11  lay  before  this  town  our  royal  bones, 


ACT  11.    SCENE  I.  53 

Wade  to  the  market-place  in  Frenchmen's  blood, 
But  we  will  make  it  subject  to  this  boy. 

Constance.  Stay  for  an  answer  to  your  embassy, 
Lest  unadvis'd  you  stain  your  swords  with  blood. 
My  Lord  Chatillon  may  from  England  bring 
That  right  in  peace  which  here  we  urge  in  war, 
And  then  we  shall  repent  each  drop  of  blood 
That  hot  rash  haste  so  indirectly  shed. 

Enter  Chatillon. 

King  Philip.   A  wonder,  lady  !  lo,  upon  thy  wish,  so 

Our  messenger  Chatillon  is  arriv'd  ! — 
What  England  says,  say  briefly,  gentle  lord  ; 
We  coldly  pause  for  thee  ;  Chatillon,  speak. 

Chatillon.  Then  turn  your  forces  from  this  paltry  siege, 
And  stir  them  up  against  a  mightier  task. 
England,  impatient  of  your  just  demands, 
Hath  put  himself  in  arms;  the  adverse  winds, 
Whose  leisure  I  have  stay'd,  have  given  him  time 
To  land  his  legions  all  as  soon  as  I. 

His  marches  are  expedient  to  this  town,  oo 

His  forces  strong,  his  soldiers  confident. 
With  him  along  is  come  the  mother-queen, 
An  Ate,  stirring  him  to  blood  and  strife; 
With  her  her  niece,  the  Lady  Blanch  of  Spain ; 
With  them  a  bastard  of  the  king's  deceas'd; 
And  all  the  unsettled  humours  of  the  land, 
Rash,  inconsiderate,  fiery  voluntaries. 
With  ladies'  faces  and  fierce  dragons'  spleens, 
Have  sold  their  fortunes  at  their  native  homes, 
Bearing  their  birthrights  proudly  on  their  backs,  70 

To  make  a  hazard  of  new  fortunes  here. 
In  brief,  a  braver  choice  of  dauntless  spirits 
Than  now  the  English  bottoms  have  waft  o'er 
Did  never  float  upon  the  swelling  tide, 


54  KING  JOHN. 

To  do  offence  and  scath  in  Christendom.  \^Drum  beats. 

The  interruption  of  their  churlish  drums 
Cuts  off  more  circumstance  :  they  are  at  hand, 
To  parley  or  to  fight;  therefore  prepare. 

King  Philip.   How  much  unlook'd  for  is  this  expedition  ! 

Austria.  By  how  much  unexpected,  by  so  much  so 

We  must  awake  endeavour  for  defence; 
For  courage  mounteth  with  occasion. 
Let  them  be  welcome  then ;  we  are  prepar'd. 

Enter  King  John,  Elinor,  Blanch,  the  Bastard,  Lords,  and 

forces. 

King  jfohn.  Peace  be  to  France,  if  France  in  peace  permit 
Our  just  and  lineal  entrance  to  our  own; 
If  not,  bleed  France,  and  peace  ascend  to  heaven, 
Whiles  we,  God's  wrathful  agent,  do  correct 
Their  proud  contempt  that  beats  His  peace  to  heaven. 

King  Philip.  Peace  be  to  England,  if  that  war  return 
From  France  to  England,  there  to  live  in  peace.  cp 

England  we  love ;  and  for  that  England's  sake 
With  burden  of  our  armour  here  we  sweat. 
This  toil  of  ours  should  be  a  work  of  thine ; 
But  thou  from  loving  England  art  so  far. 
That  thou  hast  under-wrought  his  lawful  king. 
Cut  off  the  sequence  of  posterity. 
Out-faced  infant  state  and  done  a  rape 
'Upon  the  maiden  virtue  of  the  crown. 
Look  here  upon  thy  brother  Geffrey's  face; 
These  eyes,  these  brows,  were  moulded  out  of  his  :  too 

This  little  abstract  doth  contain  that  large 
Which  died  in  Geffrey,  and  the  hand  of  time 
Shall  draw  this  brief  into  as  huge  a  volume. 
That  Geffrey  was  thy  elder  brother  born, 
And  this  his  son ;  England  was  Geffrey's  right 
And  this  is  Geffrey's  :  in  the  name  of  God 


ACT  11.     SCENE  I.  55 

How  comes  it  then  that  thou  art  call'd  a  king, 
When  living  blood  doth  in  these  temples  beat, 
Which  owe  the  crown  that  thou  o'ermasterest  ? 

King  jfohn.  From  whom  hast  thou  this  great  commission, 
France,  no 

To  draw  my  answer  from  thy  articles  ? 

King  Philip.    From  that  supernal  judge,  that  stirs  good 
thoughts 
In  any  breast  of  strong  authority, 
To  look  into  the  blots  and  stains  of  right. 
That  judge  hath  made  me  guardian  to  this  boy ; 
Under  whose  warrant  I  impeach  thy  wrong, 
And  by  whose  help  I  mean  to  chastise  it. 

King  John.  Alack  !  thou  dost  usurp  authority. 

King  Philip.  Excuse,  it  is  to  beat  usurping  down. 

Elinor.  Who  is  it  thou  dost  call  usurper,  France  ?  120 

Constance.  Let  me  make  answer, — thy  usurping  son. 

Elinor.  Out,  insolent!  thy  bastard  shall  be  king, 
That  thou  mayst  be  a  queen,  and  check  the  world  ! 

Constance.  My  bed  was  ever  to  thy  son  as  true 
As  thine  was  to  thy  husband ;  and  this  boy 
Liker  in  feature  to  his  father  Geffrey 
Than  thou  and  John  in  manners — being  as  like 
As  rain  to  water,  or  devil  to  his  dam. 
My  boy  a  bastard  !     By  my  soul,  I  think 
His  father  never  was  so  true  begot ;  130 

It  cannot  be,  an  if  thou  wert  his  mother.  *i^ 

Elinor.    There  's    a   good   mother,  bdy,   that   blots    thy 
father. 

Constance.  There  's  a  good  grandam,  boy,  that  would  blot 
thee. 

Austria.  Peace. 

Bastard.  Hear  the  crier. 

Austria.  What  the  devil  art  thou  ? 

Bastard.  One  that  will  play  the  devil;  sir,  with  you. 


56  KING  JOHN. 

An  a'  may  catch  your  hide  and  you  alone. 

You  are  the  hare  of  whom  the  proverb  goes, 

Whose  valour  plucks  dead  lions  by  the  beard. 

I  '11  smoke  your  skin-coat,  an  I  catch  you  right : 

Sirrah,  look  to  't ;  i'  faith,  I  will,  i'  faith.  ,40 

Blanch.  O,  well  did  he  become  that  lion's  robe 
That  did  disrobe  the  lion  of  that  robe ! 

Bastard.  It  lies  as  sightly  on  the  back  of  him 
As  great  Alcides'  shows  upon  an  ass; 
But,  ass,  I  '11  take  that  burthen  from  your  back. 
Or  lay  on  that  shall  make  your  shoulders  crack. 

Austria.  What  cracker  is  this  same  that  deafs  our  ears 
With  this  abundance  of  superfluous  breath  ? 
King  Philip,  determine  what  we  shall  do  straight. 

King  Philip.  Women  and  fools,  break  off  your  conference. 
King  John,  this  is  the  very  sum  of  all:  151 

England  and  Ireland,  Anjou,  Touraine,  Maine, 
In  right  of  Arthur  do  I  claim  of  thee. 
Wilt  thou  resign  them  and  lay  down  thy  arms? 

King  John.  My  life  as  soon  ;  I  do  defy  thee,  France. — 
Arthur  of  Bretagne,  yield  thee  to  my  hand; 
And  out  of  my  dear  love  I  'II  give  thee  more 
Than  e'er  the  coward  hand  of  France  can  win  : 
Submit  thee,  boy. 

Elinor.  Come  to  thy  grandam,  child. 

Constance.  Do,  child,  go  to  it  grandam,  child;  ,60 

Give  grandam  kingdom,  and  it  grandam  will 
Give  it  a  plum,  a  cherry,  and  a  fig; 
There  's  a  good  grandam. 

Arthur.  Good  my  mother,  peace  ! 

I  would  that  I  were  low  laid  in  my  grave; 
I  am  not  worth  this  coil  that 's  made  for  me. 

Elinor.  His  mother  shames  him  so,  poor  boy,  he  weeps. 

Constance.  Now  shame  upon  you,  whether  she  does  or  no! 
His  grandam's  wrongs,  and  not  his  mother's  shames, 


ACT  11.     SCENE  I. 


57 


Draws  those  heaven-moving  pearls  from  his  poor  eyes, 
Which  heaven  shall  take  in  nature  of  a  fee;  170 

Ay,  with  these  crystal  beads  heaven  shall  be  brib'd 
To  do  him  justice  and  revenge  on  you. 

Elinor.  Thou  monstrous  slanderer  of  heaven  and  earth  ! 

Constance.  Thou  monstrous  injurer  of  heaven  and  earth  ! 
Call  not  me  slanderer ;  thou  and  thine  usurp 
The  dominations,  royalties,  and  rights 
Of  this  oppressed  boy.     This  is  thy  eld'st  son's  son, 
Infortunate  in  nothing  but  in  thee  : 
Thy  sins  are  visited  in  this  poor  child; 

The  canon  of  the  law  is  laid  on  him,  180 

Being  but  the  second  generation 
Removed  from  thy  sin-conceiving  womb. 

King  yohn.  Bedlam,  have  done. 

Cofistance.  I  have  but  this  to  say, — 

That  he  is  not  only  plagued  for  her  sin, 
But  God  hath  made  her  sin  and  her  the  plague 
On  this  removed  issue,  plagu'd  for  her 
And  with  her  plague  ;  her  sin  his  injury. 
Her  injury  the  beadle  to  her  sin, 
All  punish'd  in  the  person  of  this  child, 
And  all  for  her;  a  plague  upon  her !  190 

Elinor.  Thou  unadvised  scold,  I  can  produce 
A  will  that  bars  the  title  of  thy  son. 

Constance.   Ay,  who  doubts  that?  a  will !  a  wicked  will; 
A  woman's  will;  a  canker'd  grandam's  will ! 

King  Philip.  Peace,  lady  I  pause,  or  be  more  temperate. 
It  ill  beseems  this  presence  to  cry  aim 
To  these  ill-tuned  repetitions. — 
Some  trumpet  summon  hither  to  the  walls 
These  men  of  Angiers  :  let  us  hear  them  speak 
Whose  title  they  admit,  Arthur's  or  John's* 


58  KING  JOHN. 

Trumpet  sounds.     Enter  certain  Citizens  upon  the  walls. 

Citizen.  Who  is  it  that  hath  warn'd  us  to  the  walls  ? 

King  Philip.  'T  is  France,  for  England. 

King  jfohn.  England,  for  itself. 

You  men  of  Angiers,  and  my  loving  subjects, — 

King  Philip.  You  loving  men  of  Angiers,  Arthur's  sub- 
jects, 
Our  trumpet  call'd  you  to  this  gentle  parle — 

King  jfohn.  For  our  advantage  ;  therefore  hear  us  first. 
These  flags  of  France,  that  are  advanced  here 
Before  the  eye  and  prospect  of  your  town, 
Have  hither  march'd  to  your  endamagement. 
The  cannons  have  their  bowels  full  of  wrath,  210 

And  ready  mounted  are  they  to  spit  forth 
Their  iron  indignation  'gainst  your  walls. 
All  preparation  for  a  bloody  siege 
And  merciless  proceeding  by  these  French 
Confronts  your  city's  eyes,  your  winking  gates  ; 
And  but  for  our  approach  those  sleeping  stones, 
That  as  a  waist  doth  girdle  you  about. 
By  the  compulsion  of  their  ordinance 
By  this  time  from  their  fixed  beds  of  lime 
Had  been  dishabited,  and  wide  havoc  made  22c 

For  bloody  power  to  rush  upon  your  peace. 
But  on  the  sight  of  us  your  lawful  king, 
Who  painfully  with  much  expedient  march 
Have  brought  a  countercheck  before  your  gates. 
To  save  unscratch'd  your  city's  threaten 'd  cheeks, 
Behold,  the  French  amaz'd  vouchsafe  a  parle; 
And  now,  instead  of  bullets  wrapp'd  in  fire. 
To  make  a  shaking  fever  in  your  walls. 
They  shoot  but  calm  words  folded  up  in  smoke, 
To  make  a  faithless  error  in  your  ears  :  230 

Which  trust  accordingly,  kind  citizens. 


ACT  II.     SCENE  L  59 

And  let  us  in,  your  king,  whose  labour'd  spirits, 
Forwearied  in  this  action  of  swift  speed, 
Crave  harbourage  within  your  city  walls. 

King  Philip.  When  I  have  said,  make  answer  to  us  both. 
Lo,  in  this  right  hand,  whose  protection 
Is  most  divinely  vow'd  upon  the  right 
Of  him  it  holds,  stands  young  Plantagenet, 
Son  to  the  elder  brother  of  this  rnan, 

And  king  o'er  him  and  all  that  he  enjoys.  240 

For  this  down-trodden  equity,  we  tread 
In  warlike  march  these  greens  before  your  town, 
Being  no  further  enemy  to  you 
Than  the  constraint  of  hospitable  zeal 
In  the  relief  of  this  oppressed  child 
Religiously  provokes.     Be  pleased  then 
To  pay  that  duty  which  you  truly  owe 
To  him  that  owes  it,  namely  this  young  prince; 
And  then  our  arms,  like  to  a  muzzled  bear, 
Save  in  aspect,  hath  all  offence  seal'd  up.  250 

Our  cannons'  malice  vainly  shall  be  spent 
Against  the  invulnerable  clouds  of  heaven ; 
And  with  a  blessed  and  unvex'd  retire. 
With  unhack'd  swords  and  helmets  all  unbruis'd, 
We  will  bear  home  that  lusty  blood  again 
Which  here  we  came  to  spout  against  your  town, 
And  leave  your  children,  wives,  and  you  in  peace. 
But  if  you  fondly  pass  our  proffer'd  offer, 
'T  is  not  the  roundure  of  your  old-fac'd  walls 
Can  hide  you  from  our  messengers  of  war,  a6o 

Though  all  these  English  and  their  discipline 
Were  harbour'd  in  their  rude  circumference. 
Then  tell  us,  shall  your  city  call  us  lord. 
In  that  behalf  which  we  have  challeng'd  it? 
Or  shall  we  give  the  signal  to  our  rage, 
And  stalk  in  blood  to  our  possession  ?  ^^ 


6o  KING  JOHN. 

Citizen.  In  brief,  we  are  the  king  of  England's  subjects; 
For  him,  and  in  his  right,  we  hold  this  town. 

King  John.  Acknowledge  then  the  king,  and  let  me  in. 

Citizen.  That  can  we  not;  but  he  that  proves  the  king, 
To  him  will  we  prove  loyal:  till  that  time  271 

Have  we  ramm'd  up  our  gates  against  the  world. 

King  John.  Doth  not  the  crown  of  England  prove  the  king.? 
And  if  not  that,  I  bring  you  witnesses, 
Twice  fifteen  thousand  hearts  of  England's  breed,— 

Bastard.  Bastards,  and  else. 

Ki'ig  John.  To  verify  our  title  with  their  lives. 

King  Philip.  As  many  and  as  well-born  bloods  as  those — 

Bastard.  Some  bastards  too. 

King  Philip.  Stand  in  his  face  to  contradict  his  claim.    280 

Citizen.  Till  you  compound  whose  right  is  worthiest, 
We  for  the  worthiest  hold  the  right  from  both. 

King  John.  Then  God  forgive  the  sin  of  all  those  souls 
That  to  their  everlasting  residence. 
Before  the  dew  of  evening  fall,  shall  fleet, 
In  dreadful  trial  of  our  kinsfdom's  kins:! 

King  Philip.  Amen,  amen  ! — Mount,  chevaliers  !  to  arms  ! 

Bastard.  Saint  George,  that  swing'd  the  dragon,  and  e'er 
since 
Sits  on  his  horse  back  at  mine  hostess'  door, 
Teach  us  some  fence  \—\To  Austria']  Sirrah,  were  I  at  home. 
At  your  den,  sirrah,  with  your  lioness,  291 

I  would  set  an  ox-head  to  your  lion's  hide, 
And  make  a  monster  of  you. 

Austria.  Peace  !  no  more. 

Bastard.  O,  tremble,  for  you  hear  the  lion  roar ! 

King  John.  Up  higher  to  the  plain  ;  where  we  '11  set  forth 
In  best  appointment  all  our  regiments. 

Bastard.  Speed  then,  to  take  advantage  of  the  field. 
King  Philip.  It  shall  be  so;— and  at  the  other  hill 
Command  the  rest  to  stand.-  God  and  our  right !    {^Exeunt, 


ACT  II.     SCENE  I.  (3 1 

Alarums  and  excursmis ;  then  enter  a  French  Herald,  7iiiik 

trumpets,  to  the  gates. 

French  Herald.  You  men  of  Anglers,  open  wide  your  gates, 
And  let  young  Arthur,  Duke  of  Bretagne,  in,  301 

Who  by  the  hand  of  France  this  day  hath  made 
Much  work  for  tears  in  many  an  English  mother, 
Whose  sons  lie  scatter'd  on  the  bleeding  ground. 
Many  a  widow's  husband  grovelling  lies, 
Coldly  embracing  the  discolour'd  earth  ; 
And  victory,  with  little  loss,  doth  play 
Upon  the  dancing  banners  of  the  French, 
Who  are  at  hand,  triumphantly  display'd, 
To  enter  conquerors  and  to  proclaim  3,0  - 

Arthur  of  Bretagne  England's  king  and  yours. 

Enter  English  Herald,  with  trmnpets. 

English  Herald.  Rejoice,  you  men  of  Angiers,  ring  your 
bells; 
King  John,  your  king  and  England's,  doth  approach. 
Commander  of  this  hot  malicious  day. 
Their  armours,  that  march'd  hence  so  silver-brioht. 
Hither  return  all  gilt  with  Frenchmen's  blood. 
There  stuck  no  plume  in  any  English  crest 
That  is  removed  by  a  staff  of  France  ; 
Our  colours  do  return  in  those  same  hands 
That  did  display  them  when  we  first  march'd  forth;  320 

And,  like  a  jolly  troop  of  huntsmen,  come 
Our  lusty  English,  all  with  purpled  hands, 
Dyed  in  the  dying  slaughter  of  their  foes. 
Open  your  gates  and  give  the  victors  way. 

Citizen.  Heralds,  from  off  our  towers  we  might  behold, 
From  first  to  last,  the  onset  and  retire 
Of  both  your  armies;  whose  equality 
By  our  best  eyes  cannot  be  censured. 


62  KING  JOHN. 

Blood  hath  bought  blood,  and  blows  have  answer'd  blows  ; 
Strength  match'd  with  strength,  and  power  confronted  power: 
Both  are  alike ;  and  both  alike  we  like.  331 

One  must  prove  greatest;  while  they  weigh  so  even, 
We  hold  our  town  for  neither,  yet  for  both. 

Re-enter  the  two  Kings,  with  their  J>owers,  severally. 

King  jfohn.  France,  hast  thou  yet  more  blood  to  cast  away? 
Say,  shall  the  current  of  our  right  run  on  ? 
Whose  passage,  vex'd  with  thy  impediment, 
Shall  leave  his  native  channel  and  o'erswell 
With  course  disturb'd  even  thy  confining  shores, 
Unless  thou  let  his  silver  water  keep 
A  peaceful  progress  to  the  ocean.  340 

Kifig  Philip.   England,  thou  hast  not  sav'd  one  drop  of 
blood, 
In  this  hot  trial,  more  than  we  of  France ; 
Rather,  lost  more.     And  by  this  hand  I  swear. 
That  sways  the  earth  this  climate  overlooks, 
Before  we  will  lay  down  our  just-borne  arms, 
We  '11  put  thee  down,  'gainst  whom  these  arms  we  bear, 
Or  add  a  royal  number  to  the  dead. 
Gracing  the  scroll  that  tells  of  this  war's  loss 
With  slaughter  coupled  to  the  name  of  kings. 

Bastard.   Ha,  majesty  !  how  high  thy  glory  towers,         350 
When  the  rich  blood  of  kings  is  set  on  fire  ! 
O,  now  doth  Death  line  his  dead  chaps  with  steel : 
The  swords  of  soldiers  are  his  teeth,  his  fangs; 
And  now  he  feasts,  mousing  the  flesh  of  men. 
In  undetermin'd  differences  of  kings. — 
Why  stand  these  royal  fronts  amazed  thus  ? 
Cry  havoc,  kings  !  back  to  the  stained  field, 
You  equal  potents,  fiery  kindled  spirits  ! 
Then  let  confusion  of  one  part  confirm 
The  other's  peace  ;  till  then,  blows,  blood,  and  death  !        360 


ACT  II.     SCENE  /.  G3 

King  John.  Whose  party  do  the  townsmen  yet  admit  ? 

King  Philip.    Speak,  citizens,  for  England ;   who  's  your 
king? 

Citizen.  The  king  of  England,  when  we  know  the  king. 

King  Philip.  Know  him  in  us,  that  here  hold  up  his  right. 

King  John.  In  us,  that  are  our  own  great  deputy, 
And  bear  possession  of  our  person  here, 
Lord  of  our  presence.  Anglers,  and  of  you. 

Citizen.  A  greater  power  than  we  denies  all  this; 
And  till  it  be  undoubted,  we  do  lock 

Our  former  scruple  in  our  strong-barr'd  gates;  370 

King'd  of  our  fears,  until  our  fears,  resolv'd. 
Be  by  some  certain  king  purg'd  and  depos'd. 

Bastard.   By  heaven,  these  scroyles  of  Anglers  flout  you, 
kings. 
And  stand  securely  on  their  battlements, 
As  in  a  theatre,  whence  they  gape  and  point 
At  your  industrious  scenes  and  acts  of  death. 
Your  royal  presences  be  rul'd  by  me : 
Do  like  the  mutines  of  Jerusalem  ; 
Be  friends  awhile,  and  both  conjointly  bend 
Your  sharpest  deeds  of  malice  on  this  town.  380 

By  east  and  west  let  France  and  England  mount 
Their  battering  cannon  charged  to  the  mouths, 
Till  their  soul-fearing  clamours  have  brawl'd  down 
The  flinty  ribs  of  this  contemptuous  city. 
I  'd  play  incessantly  upon  these  jades, 
Even  till  unfenced  desolation 
Leave  them  as  naked  as  the  vulgar  air. 
That  done,  dissever  your  united  strengths, 
And  part  your  mingled  colours  once  again, 
Turn  face  to  face  and  bloody  point  to  point ;  39° 

Then,  in  a  moment.  Fortune  shall  cull  forth 
Out  of  one  side  her  happy  minion, 
To  whom  in  favour  she  shall  give  the  day, 


64  KING  JOHN. 

And  kiss  him  with  a  glorious  victory. 

How  like  you  this  wild  counsel,  mighty  states  ? 

Smacks  it  not  something  of  the  policy? 

King  jfohn.  Now,  by  the  sky  that  hangs  above  our  heads, 
I  like  it  well. — France,  shall  we  knit  our  powers 
And  lay  this  Anglers  even  with  the  ground. 
Then  after  fight  who  shall  be  king  of  it .''  400 

Bastard.  An  if  thou  hast  the  mettle  of  a  king, 
Being  wrong'd  as  we  are  by  this  peevish  town, 
Turn  thou  the  mouth  of  thy  artillery, 
As  we  will  ours,  against  these  saucy  walls; 
And  when  that  we  have  dash'd  them  to  the  ground, 
Why  then  defy  each  other,  and  pell-mell 
Make  work  upon  ourselves,  for  heaven  or  hell. 

King  Philip.  Let  it  be  so. — Say,  where  will  you  assault.? 

King  yohn.  We  from  the  west  will  send  destruction 
Into  this  citv's  bosom.  410 

Austria.  I  from  the  north. 

King  Philip.  Our  thunder  from  the  south 

Shall  rain  their  drift  of  bullets  on  this  town. 

Bastard.  O  prudent  discipline  !     From  north  to  south, 
Austria  and  France  shoot  in  each  other's  mouth  : 
I  '11  stir  them  to  it. — Come,  away,  away ! 

Citizen.  Hear  us,  great  kings  ;  vouchsafe  awhile  to  stay. 
And  I  shall  show  you  peace  and  fair-fac'd  league, 
Win  you  this  city  without  stroke  or  wound, 
Rescue  those  breathing  lives  to  die  in  beds, 
That  here  come  sacrifices  for  the  field.  420 

Persever  not,  but  hear  me,  mighty  kings. 

King  yohn.   Speak  on  with  favour;  we  are  bent  to  hear. 

Citizen.  That  daughter  there  of  Spain,  the" Lady  Blanch, 
Is  niece  to  England;  look  upon  the  years 
Of  Lewis  the  Dauphin  and  that  lovely  maid. 
If  lusty  love  should  go  in  quest  of  beauty, 
Where  should  he  find  it  fairer  than  in  Blanch  ? 


ACT  II.    SCENE  I.  65 

If  zealous  love  should  go  in  search  of  virtue, 

Where  should  he  find  it  purer  than  in  Blanch  ? 

If  love  ambitious  sought  a  match  of  birth,  430 

Whose  veins  bound  richer  blood  than  Lady  Blanch  ? 

Such  as  she  is,  in  beauty,  virtue,  birth, 

Is  the  young  Dauphin  every  way  complete  : 

If  not  complete  of,  say  he  is  not  she; 

And  she  again  wants  nothing,  to  name  want, 

If  want  it  be  not  that  she  is  not  he. 

He  is  the  half  part  of  a  blessed  man, 

Left  to  be  finished  by  such  a  she; 

And  she  a  fair  divided  excellence. 

Whose  fulness  of  perfection  lies  in  him.  440 

O,  two  such  silver  currents,  when  they  join, 

Do  glorify  the  banks  that  bound  them  in ; 

And  two  such  shores  to  two  such  streams  made  one, 

Two  such  controlling  bounds  shall  you  be,  kings, 

To  these  two  princes,  if  you  marry  them. 

This  union  shall  do  more  than  battery  can 

To  our  fast-closed  gates;  for  at  this  match. 

With  swifter  spleen  than  powder  can  enforce, 

The  mouth  of  passage  shall  we  fling  wide  ope. 

And  give  you  entrance :  but  without  this  match,  45° 

The  sea  enraged  is  not  half  so  deaf. 

Lions  more  confident,  mountains  and  rocks 

More  free  from  motion,  no,  not  Death  himself 

In  mortal  fury  half  so  peremptory, 

As  we  to  keep  this  city. 

Bastard.  Here  's  a  stay 

That  shakes  the  rotten  carcass  of  old  Death 
Out  of  his  rags  !     Here 's  a  large  mouth,  indeed. 
That  spits  forth  death  and  mountains,  rocks  and  seas, 
Talks  as  familiarly  of  roaring  lions 

As  maids  of  thirteen  do  of  puppy-dogs  !  460 

What  cannoneer  begot  this  lusty  blood  ? 


66  KING  JOHN. 

He  speaks  plain  cannon  fire,  and  smoke  and  bounce ; 
He  gives  the  bastinado  with  his  tongue : 
Our  ears  are  cudgell'd  \  not  a  word  of  his 
But  buffets  better  than  a  fist  of  France. 
Zounds !  I  was  never  so  bethump'd  with  words 
Since  I  first  call'd  my  brother's  fiither  dad. 

Elinor.   Son,  list  to  this  conjunction,  make  this  match  ; 
Give  with  our  niece  a  dowry  large  enough: 
For  by  this  knot  thou  shalt  so  surely  tie  +70 

Thy  now  unsur'd  assurance  to  the  crown, 
That  yon  green  boy  shall  have  no  sun  to  ripe 
The  bloom  that  promiselh  a  mighty  fruit. 
I  see  a  yielding  in  the  looks  of  France; 
Mark,  how  they  whisper :  urge  them  while  their  souls 
Are  capable  of  this  ambition, 
Lest  zeal,  now  melted,  by  the  windy  breath 
Of  soft  petitions,  pity,  and  remorse. 
Cool  and  congeal  again  to  what  it  was. 

Citizen.  Why  answer  not  the  double  majesties  4^0 

This  friendly  treaty  of  our  threaten'd  town  ? 

King  Philip.   Speak  England  first,  that  hath  been  forward 
first 
To  speak  unto  this  city;  what  say  you  ?    . 

King  yohn.  If  that  the  Dauphin  there,  thy  princely  son, 
Can  in  this  book  of  beauty  read  '  I  love,' 
Her  dowry  shall  weigh  equal  with  a  queen; 
For  Anjou  and  fair  Touraine,  Maine,  Poictiers, 
And  all  that  we  upon  this  side  the  sea, 
Except  this  city  now  by  us  besieg'd, 

Find  liable  to  our  crown  and  dignity,  490 

Shall  gild  her  bridal  bed  and  make  her  rich 
In  titles,  honours,  and  promotions. 
As  she  in  beauty,  education,  blood. 
Holds  hand  with  any  princess  of  the  world. 

King  Philip.  What  say'st  thou,  boy  ?  look  in  the  lady's  face. 


ACT  II.     SCENE  I.  67 

Lewis.  I  do,  my  lord;  and  in  her  eye  I  find 
A  wonder,  or  a  wondrous  miracle, 
The  shadow  of  myself  form'd  in  her  eye  ; 
Which,  being  but  the  shadow  of  your  son. 
Becomes  a  sun  and  makes  your  son  a  shadow.  500 

I  do  protest  I  never  lov'd  myself 
Till  now  infixed  I  beheld  myself 
Drawn  in  the  flattering  table  of  her  eye. 

[  Whispers  with  Blanch. 

Bastard.  Drawn  in  the  flattering  table  of  her  eye  ! 

Hang'd  in  the  frowning  wrinkle  of  her  brow  ! 
And  quarter'd  in  her  heart !  he  doth  espy 

Himself  love's  traitor;  this  is  pity  now. 
That,  hang'd  and  drawn  and  quarter'd,  there  should  be 
In  such  a  love  so  vile  a  lout  as  he. 

Blanch.  My  uncle's  will  in  this  respect  is  mine  :  s" 

If  he  see  aught  in  you  that  makes  him  like. 
That  any  thing  he  sees,  which  moves  his  liking, 
I  can  with  ease  translate  it  to  my  will ; 
Or  if  you  will,  to  speak  more  properly, 
I  will  enforce  it  easily  to  my  love. 
Further  I  will  not  flatter  you,  my  lord, 
That  all  I  see  in  you  is  worthy  love. 
Than  this, — that  nothing  do  I  see  in  you, 
Though  churlish  thoughts  themselves  should  be  your  judge, 
That  I  can  find  should  merit  any  hate.  5==° 

King  John.  What  say  these  young  ones  ? — What  say  you, 
my  niece? 

Blanch.  That  she  is  bound  in  honour  still  to  do 
What  you  in  wisdom  still  vouchsafe  to  say. 

King  John.   Speak  then,  prince  Dauphin ;  can  you  love 
this  lady  ? 

Lewis.  Nay,  ask  me  if  I  can  refrain  ft-om  love ; 
For  I  do  love  her  most  unfeignedly. 

King  John.  Then  do  I  give  Volquessen,  Touraine,  Maine, 


68  KING  JOHN. 

Poictiers,  and  Anjou,  these  five  provinces, 

With  her  to  thee;  and  this  addition  more, 

Full  thirty  thousand  marks  of  English  coin. —  33° 

Philip  of  France,  if  thou  be  pleas'd  withal,  ; 

Command  thy  son  and  daughter  to  join  hands. M^ 

King  Philip.  It  likes  us  well. — Young  princes,  close  your 
hands. 

Austria.  And  your  lips  too;  for  I  am  well  assur'd 
That  I  did  so  when  I  was  first  assur'd. 

King  Philip.   Now,  citizens  of  Anglers,  ope  your  gates, 
Let  in  that  amity  which  you  have  made; 
For  at  St.  Mary's  chapel  presently 
The  rites  of  marriage  shall  be  solemniz'd. — 
Is  not  the  Lady  Constance  in  this  troop  ?  540 

I  know  she  is  not,  for  this  match  made  up 
Her  presence  would  have  interrupted  much. 
Where  is  she  and  her  son  ?  tell  me,  who  knows. 

Lewis.    She    is    sad    and    passionate    at    your    highness' 
tent. 

Kitig  Philip.  And,  by  my  faith,  this  league  that  we  have 
made 
Will  give  her  sadness  very  little  cure. — 
Brother  of  England,  how  may  we  content 
This  widow  lady  ?     In  her  right  we  came ; 
Which  we,  God  knows,  have  turn'd  another  way, 
To  our  own  vantage. 

King  John.  We  will  heal  up  all;  sso 

For  we  '11  create  young  Arthur  Duke  of  Bretagne 
And  Earl  of  Richmond;  and  this  rich  fair  town 
We  make  him  lord  of — Call  the  lady  Constance; 
Some  speedy  messenger  bid  her  repair 
To  our  solemnity. — I  trust  we  shall, 
If  not  fill  up  the  measure  of  her  will, 
Yet  in  some  measure  satisfy  her  so 
That  we  shall  stop  her  exclamation. 


ACT  II.     SCENE  /.  69 

Go  we,  as  well  as  haste  will  suffer  us, 

To  this  unlook'd  for,  unprepared  pomp.  5^0 

[Exeunt  all  but  the  Bastard. 
Bastard.  Mad  world  !  mad  kings  !  mad  composition  ! 
John,  to  stop  Arthur's  title  in  the  whole, 
Hath  willingly  departed  with  a  part ; 
And  France,  whose  armour  conscience  buckled  on, 
Whom  zeal  and  charity  brought  to  the  field 
As  God's  own  soldier,  rounded  in  the  ear 
With  that  same  purpose-changer,  that  sly  devil, 
That  broker,  that  still  breaks  the  pate  of  faith, 
That  daily  break-vow,  he  that  wins  of  all. 
Of  kings,  of  beggars,  old  men,  young  men,  maids,  570 

Who,  having  no  external  thing  to  lose 
But  the  word  maid,  cheats  the  poor  maid  of  that, 
That  smooth-fac'd  gentleman,  tickling  Commodity, — 
Commodity,  the  bias  of  the  world. 
The  world,  who  of  itself  is  peized  well, 
Made  to  run  even  upon  even  ground. 
Till  this  advantage,  this  vile-drawing  bias. 
This  sway  of  motion,  this  Commodity, 
Makes  it  take  head  from  all  indifferency. 
From  all  direction,  purpose,  course,  intent; —  580 

And  this  same  bias,  this  Commodity, 
This  bawd,  this  broker,  this  all-changing  word, 
Clapp'd  on  the  outward  eye  of  fickle  France, 
Hath  drawn  him  from  his  own  determin'd  aid, 
From  a  resolv'd  and  honourable  war. 
To  a  most  base  and  vile-concluded  peace. 
And  why  rail  I  on  this  Commodity  ? 
But  for  because  he  hath  not  woo'd  me  yet : 
Not  that  I  have  the  power  to  clutch  my  hand, 
When  his  fair  angels  would  salute  my  palm;  590 

But  for  my  hand,  as  unattempted  yet, 
Like  a  poor  beggar,  raileth  on  the  rich. 


70 


KING  JOHN. 


Well,  whiles  I  am  a  beggar,  I  will  rail 
And  say  there  is  no  sin  but  to  be  rich ; 
And  being  rich,  my  virtue  then  shall  be 
To  say  there  is  no  vice  but  beggary. 
Since  kings  break  faith  upon  commodity, 
Gain,  be  my  lord,  for  I  will  worship  thee  ! 


\Exit. 


QUEEN    ELINOR. 


^^c=^ 


■^      '       -^^ 


THE    BATTLE   NEAR    ANGIERS. 


ACT  III. 

Scene  I.     T/ie  Frmch  King's  Pavilion. 

Enter  Constance,  Arthur,  and  Salisbury. 

Constance.  Gone  to  be  married  !  gone  to  swear  a  peace  ! 
False  blood  to  false  blood  join'd  !  gone  to  be  friends  ! 
Shall  Lewis  have  Blanch,  and  Blanch  those  provinces? 
It  is  not  so;  thou  hast  misspoke,  misheard ; 
Be  well  advis'd,  tell  o'er  thy  tale  again  : 
It  cannot  be;  thou  dost  but  say  't  is  so. 
I  trust  I  may  not  trust  thee;  for  thy  word 
Is  but  the  vain  breath  of  a  common  man. 
Believe  me,  I  do  not  believe  thee,  man ; 
I  have  a  king's  oath  to  the  contrary.  i 

Thou  shalt  be  punish'd  for  thus  frighting  me, 


72  KING  JOHN. 

For  I  am  sick  and  capable  of  fears, 

Oppress'd  with  wrongs  and  therefore  full  of  fears, 

A  widow,  husbandless,  subject  to  fears, 

A  woman,  naturally  born  to  fears; 

And  though  thou  now  confess  thou  didst  but  jest, 

With  my  vex'd  spirits  I  cannot  take  a  truce, 

But  they  will  quake  and  tremble  all  this  day. 

What  dost  thou  mean  by  shaking  of  thy  head  ? 

Why  dost  thou  look  so  sadly  on  my  son  ?  ao 

What  means  that  hand  upon  that  breast  of  thine? 

Why  holds  thine  eye  that  lamentable  rheum, 

Like  a  proud  river  peering  o'er  his  bounds  ? 

Be  these  sad  signs  confirmers  of  thy  words  ? 

Then  speak  again;  not  all  thy  former  tale, 

But  this  one  word,  whether  thy  tale  be  true. 

Salisbury.   As  true  as  I  believe  you  think  them  false 
That  give  you  cause  to  prove  my  saying  true. 

Constance.  O,  if  thou  teach  me  to  believe  this  sorrow, 
Teach  thou  this  sorrow  how  to  make  me  die,  30 

And  let  belief  and  life  encounter  so 
As  doth  the  fury  of  two  desperate  men 
Which  in  the  very  meeting  fall  and  die  ! 
Lewis  marry  Blanch  !    O  boy,  then  where  art  thou  ? 
France  friend  with  England,  what  becomes  of  me  "i — • 
Fellow,  be  gone  :  I  cannot  brook  thy  sight; 
This  news  hath  made  thee  a  most  ugly  man. 

Salisbury.  What  other  harm  have  I,  good  lady,  done. 
But  spoke  the  harm  that  is  by  others  done  ? 

Constance.  Which  harm  within  itself  so  heinous  is  ^a 

As  it  makes  harmful  all  that  speak  of  it. 

Arthur.  I  do  beseech  you,  madam,  be  content. 

Constance.  If  thou,  that  bid'st  me  be  content,  wert  grim, 
Ugly,  and  slanderous  to  thy  mother's  womb. 
Full  of  unpleasing  blots  and  sightless  stains. 
Lame,  foolish,  crooked,  swart,  prodigious. 


ACT  in.    SCENE  I.  73 

Patch'd  with  foul  moles  and  eye-ofifending  marks, 

I  would  not  care,  I  then  would  be  content; 

For  then  I  should  not  love  thee,  no,  nor  thou 

Become  thy  great  birth  nor  deserve  a  crown.  50 

But  thou  art  fair,  and  at  thy  birth,  dear  bo)^ 

Nature  and  Fortune  join'd  to  make  thee  great; 

Of  Nature's  gifts  thou  mayst  with  lilies  boast 

And  with  the  half-blown  rose.     But  Fortune,  O, 

She  is  corrupted,  chang'd,  and  won  from  thee; 

She  adulterates  hourly  with  thine  uncle  John, 

And  with  her  golden  hand  hath  pluck'd  on  France 

To  tread  down  fair  respect  of  sovereignty, 

And  made  his  majesty  the  bawd  to  theirs. 

France  is  a  bawd  to  Fortune  and  King  John,  60 

That  strumpet  Fortune,  that  usurping  John  ! — 

Tell  me,  thou  fellow,  is  not  France  forsworn  ? 

Envenom  him  with  words,  or  get  thee  gone 

And  leave  those  woes  alone  which  I  alone 

Am  bound  to  underbear. 

Salisbury.  Pardon  me,  madam, 

I  may  not  go  without  you  to  the  kings. 

Constance.  Thou  mayst,  thou  shalt;  I  will  not  go  with  thee. 
I  will  instruct  my  sorrows  to  be  proud; 
For  grief  is  proud  and  makes  his  owner  stoop. 
To  me  and  to  the  state  of  my  great  grief  70 

Let  kings  assemble;  for  my  grief's  so  great 
That  no  supporter  but  the  huge  firm  earth 
Can  hold  it  up.     Here  I  and  sorrows  sit; 
Here  is  my  throne,  bid  kings  come  bow  to  it.       " — 

[^Seais  herself  on  the  ground. 

Enter  King  John,  King  Philip,  Lewis,  Blanch,  Elinor, 
the  Bastard,  Austria,  a7id  Attendants. 
King  Philip.  'T  is  true,  fair  daughter;  and  this  blessed 
day 


74  KING  JOHN. 

Ever  in  France  shall  be  kept  festival. 

To  solemnize  this  day  the  glorious  sun 

Stays  in  his  course  and  plays  the  alchemist, 

"J'urning  with  splendour  of  his  precious  eye 

The  meagre  cloddy  earth  to  glittering  gold.  8c 

The  yearly  course  that  brings  this  day  about 

Shall  never  see  it  but  a  holiday. 

Constance.  A  wicked  day,  and  not  a  holy  day  !        \_Risi/ig. 
What  hath  this  day  deserv'd?  what  hath  it  done, 
That  it  in  golden  letters  should  be  set 
Among  the  high  tides  in  the  calendar.? 
Nay,  rather  turn  this  day  out  of  the  week, 
This  day  of  shame, oppression,  perjury; 
Or,  if  it  must  stand  still,  let  wives  with  child 
Pray  that  their  burthens  may  not  fall  this  day,  90 

Lest  that  their  hopes  prodigiously  be  cross'd. 
But  on  this  day  let  seamen  fear  no  wrack ; 
No  bargains  break  that  are  not  this  day  made: 
This  day,  all  things  begun  come  to  ill  end. 
Yea,  faith  itself  to  hollow  falsehood  change  ! 

King  Philip.  By  heaven,  lady,  you  shall  have  no  cause 
To  curse  the  fair  proceedings  of  this  day. 
Have  I  not  pawn'd  to  you  my  majesty  ? 

Constance.  You  have  beguil'd  me  with  a  counterfeit 
Resembling  majesty,  which,  being  touch'd  and  tried,  100 

Proves  valueless  :  vou  are  forsworn,  forsworn  : 
You  came  in  arms  to  spill  mine  enemies'  blood. 
But  now  in  arms  you  strengthen  it  with  yours. 
The  grappling  vigour  and  rough  frown  of  war 
Is  cold  in  amity  and  painted  peace. 
And  our  oppression  hath  made  up  this  league. — 
Arm,  arm,  you  heavens,  against  these  perjur'd  kings ! 
A  widow  cries;  be  husband  to  me,  heavens ! 
Let  not  the  hours  of  this  ungodly  day 
Wear  out  the  day  in  peace;  but,  ere  sunset,  no 


ACT  in.     SCENE  I.  75 

Set  armed  discord  'twixt  these  perjur'd  kings  ! 
Hear  me,  O,  hear  me  ! 

Austria.  Lady  Constance,  peace  ! 

Constance.  War!  war!  no  peace!  peace  is  to  me  a  war. — ■ 
O  Lymoges !  O  Austria !  thou  dost  shame 
That  bloody  spoil ;  thou  slave,  thou  wretch,  thou  coward  ! 
Thou  little  valiant,  great  in  villany  ! 
Thou  ever  strong  upon  the  stronger  side ! 
Thou  Fortune's  champion  that  dost  never  fight 
But  when  her  humorous  ladyship  is  by 

To  teach  thee  safety  !  thou  art  perjur'd  too,  120 

And  sooth'st  up  greatness.     What  a  fool  art  thou, 
A  ramping  fool,  to  brag  and  stamp  and  swear 
Upon  my  party  !     Thou  cold-blooded  slave, 
Hast  thou  not  spoke  like  thunder  on  my  side, 
Been  sworn  my  soldier,  bidding  me  depend 
Upon  thy  stars,  thy  fortune,  and  thy  strength, 
And  dost  thou  now  fall  over  to  my  foes  ? 
Thou  wear  a  lion's  hide  !  doff  it  for  shame. 
And  hang  a  calf  s-skin  on  those  recreant  limbs.  129 

Austria.  O,  that  a  man  should  speak  those  words  to  me ! 

Bastard.  And  hang  a  calf's-skin  on  those  recreant  limbs. 

Austria.  Thou  dar'st  not  say  so,  villain,  for  thy  life. 

Bastard.  And  hang  a  calf's-skin  on  those  recreant  limbs 

King  John.  We  like  not  this ;  thou  dost  forget  thyself., 


Eiiter  Pandulph. 

King  Philip.  Here  comes  the  holy  legate  of  the  pope. 

Pandulph.  Hail,  you  anointed  deputies  of  heaven  ! 
To  thee,  King  John,  my  holy  errand  is. 
I  Pandulph,  of  fair  Milan  cardinal, 
And  from  Pope  Innocent  the  legate  here, 
Do  in  his  name  religiously  demand  140 

Why  thou  against  the  church,  our  holy  mother. 
So  wilfully  dost  spurn,  and  force  perforce 


76  KING  JOHN. 

Keep  Stephen  Langton,  chosen  archbishop 
Of  Canterbury,  from  that  holy  see  ? 
This,  in  our  foresaid  holy  father's  name, 
Pope  Innocent,  I  do  demand  of  thee. 

King  yohn.  What  earthly  name  to  interrogatories 
Can  task  the  free  breath  of  a  sacred  kins;  ? 
Thou  canst  not,  cardinal,  devise  a  name 
So  slight,  unworthy,  and  ridiculous,  ,50 

To  charge  me  to  an  answer,  as  the  pope. 
Tell  him  this  tale:  and  from  the  mouth  of  England 
Add  thus  much  more, — that  no  Italian  priest 
Shall  tithe  or  toll  in  our  dominions  : 
But  as  we,  under  heaven,  are  supreme  head, 
So  under  Him  that  great  supremacy. 
Where  we  do  reign,  we  will  alone  uphold, 
Without  the  assistance  of  a  mortal  hand. 
So  tell  the  pope,  all  reverence  set  apart 
To  him  and  his  usurp'd  authority.  160 

King  Philip.   Brother  of  England,  you  blaspheme  in  this. 

King  John.  Though  you  and  all  the  kings  of  Christen- 
dom 
Are  led  so  grossly  by  this  meddling  priest. 
Dreading  the  curse  that  money  may  buy  out, 
And  by  the  merit  of  vile  gold,  dross,  dust, 
Purchase  corrupted  pardon  of  a  man. 
Who  in  that  sale  sells  pardon  from  himself. 
Though  you  and  all  the  rest,  so  grossly  led, 
This  juggling  witchcraft  with  revenue  cherish. 
Yet  I  alone,  alone  do  me  oppose  170 

Against  the  pope,  and  count  his  friends  my  foes. 

Pafuhdph.  Then,  by  the  lawful  power  that  I  have, 
Thou  shalt  stand  curs'd  and  excommunicate  : 
And  blessed  shall  he  be  that  doth  revolt 
From  his  allegiance  to  an  heretic ; 
And  meritorious  shall  that  hand  be  call'd, 


ACT  in.    SCENE  I.  77 

Canonized  and  worshipp'd  as  a  saint, 
That  takes  away  by  any  secret  course 
Thy  hateful  life. 

Constance.  O,  lawful  let  it  be 

That  I  have  room  with  Rome  to  curse  awhile !  i8o 

Good  father  cardinal,  cry  thou  amen 
To  my  keen  curses;  for  without  my  wrong 
There  is  no  tongue  hath  power  to  curse  him  right. 

Pandulph.  There  's  law  and  warrant,  lady,  for  my  curse. 

Constance.  And  for  mine  too;  when  law  can  do  no  right, 
Let  it  be  lawful  that  law  bar  no  wrong. 
Law  cannot  give  my  child  his  kingdom  here, 
For  he  that  holds  his  kingdom  holds  the  law; 
Therefore,  since  law  itself  is  perfect  wrong, 
How  can  the  law  forbid  my  tongue  to  curse .-"  igo 

Fatidulph.  Philip  of  France,  on  peril  of  a  curse. 
Let  go  the  hand  of  that  arch-heretic. 
And  raise  the  power  of  France  upon  his  head, 
Unless  he  do  submit  himself  to  Rome. 

Elinor.  Look'st  thou   pale,  France .''    do    not  let   go    thy 
hand. 

Constance.  Look  to  that,  devil;  lest  that  France  repent. 
And  by  disjoining  hands  hell  lose  a  soul. 

Austria.   King  Philip,  listen  to  the  cardinal. 

Bastard.  And  hang  a  calf  s-skin  on  his  recreant  limbs. 

Austria.  Well,  ruffian,  I  must  pocket  up  these  wrongs,   200 
Because — 

Bastard.    Your  breeches  best  may  carry  them. 

King  JoJm.  Philip,  what  say'st  thou  to  the  cardinal? 

Constance.  What  should  he  say,  but  as  the  cardinal  ? 

Lewis.  Bethink  you,  father;  for  the  difference 
Is  purchase  of  a  heavy  curse  from  Rome, 
Or  the  light  loss  of  England  for  a  friend  : 
Forego  the  easier. 

Blanch.  That 's  the  curse  of  Rome.**r- 


yS  KING  JOHiV. 

Constance.  O    Lewis,  stand   fast !   the   devil    tempts  thee 
here 
In  likeness  of  a  new  untrimmed  bride.  209 

Blanch.  The  Lady  Constance  speaks  not  from  her  faith, 
But  from  her  need. 

Constance.  O,  if  thou  grant  my  need. 

Which  only  lives  but  by  the  death  of  faith, 
That  need  must  needs  infer  this  principle. 
That  faith  would  live  again  by  death  of  need. 
O  then,  tread  down  my  need,  and  faith  mounts  up; 
Keep  my  need  up,  and  faith  is  trodden  down  ! 

King  John.  The  king  is  mov'd,  and  answers  not  to  this. 

Constance.  O, be  remov'd  from  him,  and  answer  well! 

Austria.  Do  so,  King  Philip  \  hang  no  more  in  doubt.    2:9 

Bastard.   Hang  nothing  but  a  calfs-skin,  most  sweet  lout. 

King  Philip.   I  am  perplex'd,  and  know  not  what  to  say. 

Fandulph.  What  canst   thou   say  but  will    perplex   thee 
more, 
If  thou  stand  excommunicate  and  curs'd  ? 

King  Philip.  Good  reverend  father,  make  my  person  yourSj 
And  tell  me  how  you  would  bestow  yourself 
This  royal  hand  and  mine  are  newly  knit, 
And  the  conjunction  of  our  inward  souls 
Married  in  league,  coupled  and  link'd  together 
With  all  religious  strength  of  sacred  vows.  „^-^ 
The  latest  breath  that  gave  the  sound  of  words  230 

Was  deep-sworn  faith,  peace,  amity,  true  love 
Between  our  kingdoms  and  our  royal  selves; 
And  even  before  this  truce,  but  new  before, 
No  longer  than  we  well  could  wash  our  hands 
To  clap  this  royal  bargain  up  of  peace, 
Heaven  knows,  they  were  besmear'd  and  overstain'd 
With  slaughter's  pencil,  where  revenge  did  paint 
The  fearful  difference  of  incensed  kings  : 
And  shall  these  hands,  so  lately  purg'd  of  blood. 


ACT  in.    SCENE  I. 


79 


So  newly  join'd  in  love,  so  strong  in  both,  240 

Unyoke  this  seizure  and  this  kind  regreet? 

Day  fast  and  loose  with  faith  ?  so  jest  with  heaven, 

Make  such  unconstant  children  of  ourselves, 

As  now  again  to  snatch  our  palm  from  palm, 

Unswear  faith  sworn,  and  on  the  marriage-bed 

Of  smiling  peace  to  march  a  bloody  host, 

And  make  a  riot  on  the  gentle  brow 

Of  true  sincerity  ?     O,  holy  sir, 

Mv  reverend  father,  let  it  not  be  so  ! 

Out  of  your  grace,  devise,  ordain,  impose  150 

Some  gentle  order;  and  then  we  shall  be  blest 

To  do  your  pleasure  and  continue  friends. 

Pandulph.  All  form  is  formless,  order  orderless, 
Save  what  is  opposite  to  England's  love. 
Therefore  to  arms !  be  champion  of  our  church. 
Or  let  the  church,  our  mother,  breathe  her  curse, 
A  mother's  curse,  on  her  revolting  son. 
France,  thou  mayst  hold  a  serpent  by  the  tongue, 
A  chafed  lion  by  the  mortal  paw, 

A  fasting  tiger  safer  by  the  tooth,  360 

Than  keep  in  peace  that  hand  which  thou  dost  hold. 

King  Philip.  I  may  disjoin  my  hand,  but  not  my  faith. 

Pandulph.  So  mak'st  thou  faith  an  enemy  to  faith, 
And  like  a  civil  war  set'st  oath  to  oath. 
Thy  tongue  against  thy  tongue.     O,  let  thy  vow 
First  made  to  heaven,  first  be  to  heaven  perform'd. 
That  is,  to  be  the  champion  of  our  church  ! 
What  since  thou  swor'st  is  sworn  against  thyself. 
And  may  not  be  performed  by  thyself; 

For  that  which  thou  hast  sworn  to  do  amiss  270 

Is  not  amiss  when  it  is  truly  done. 
And  being  not  done,  where  doing  tends  to  ill, 
The  truth  is  then  most  done  rot  doing  it. 
The  better  act  of  purposes  mistook 


8o  KING  JOHN. 

Is  to  mistake  again;  though  indirect, 

Yet  indirection  thereby  grows  direct, 

And  falsehood  falsehood  cures,  as  fire  cools  fire 

Within  the  scorched  veins  of  one  new-burn'd. 

It  is  religion  that  doth  make  vows  kept; 

But  thou  hast  sworn  against  religion,  280 

By  which  thou  swear'st  against  the  thing  thou  swear'st, 

And  mak'st  an  oath  the  surety  for  thy  truth 

Against  an  oath :  the  truth  thou  art  unsure 

To  swear  swears  only  not  to  be  forsworn; 

Else  what  a  mockery  should  it  be  to  swear ! 

But  thou  dost  swear  only  to  be  forsworn ; 

And  most  forsworn,  to  keep  what  thou  dost  swear. 

Therefore  thy  later  vows  against  thy  first 

Is  in  thyself  rebellion  to  thyself; 

And  better  conquest  never  canst  thou  make  290 

Than  arm  thy  constant  and  thy  nobler  parts 

Against  these  giddy  loose  suggestions  : 

Upon  which  better  part  our  prayers  come  in. 

If  thou  vouchsafe  them.     But  if  not,  then  know 

The  peril  of  our  curses  light  on  thee 

So  heavy  as  thou  shalt  not  shake  them  off, 

But  in  despair  die  under  their  black  weight. 

Austria.  Rebellion  !  flat  rebellion  ! 

Bastard.  Will 't  not  be  ? 

Will  not  a  calfs-skin  stop  that  mouth  of  thine? 

Lewis.  Father,  to  arms  ! 

Blatich.  Upon  thy  wedding-day  ?  300 

Against  the  blood  that  thou  hast  married  ? 
What,  shall  our  feast  be  kept  with  slaughter'd  men  ? 
Shall  braying  trumpets  and  loud  churlish  drums, 
Clamours  of  hell,  be  measures  to  our  pomp  ? 
O  husband,  hear  me  ! — ay,  alack,  how  new 
Is  husband  in  my  mouth ! — even  for  that  name, 
Which  till  this  time  my  tongue  did  ne'er  pronounce, 


ACT  in.    SCENE  I.  8r 

Upon  my  knee  I  beg,  go  not  to  arms 
Against  mine  uncle. 

Co?istance.  O,  upon  my  knee, 

Made  hard  with  kneeling,  I  do  pray  to  thee,  310 

Thou  virtuous  Dauphin,  alter  not  the  doom 
Forethought  by  heaven  ! 

Blanch.  Now  shall  I  see  thy  lov^e;  what  motive  may 
Be  stronger  with  thee  than  the  name  of  wife  ? 

Constance.  That  which  upholdeth  him  that  thee  upholds, 
His  honour. —  O,  thine  honour,  Lewis,  thine  honour! 

Leivis.  I  muse  your  majesty  doth  seem  so  cold, 
When  such  profound  respects  do  pull  you  on. 

Pandulph.  I  will  denounce  a  curse  upon  his  head. 

Ki7ig  Philip.  Thou  shalt  not  need. — England,  I  will  fall 
from  thee.  320 

Constance.  O  fair  return  of  banish'd  majesty! 

Elinor.  O  foul  revolt  of  French  inconstancy  ! 

King  yohn.  France,  thou  shalt  rue  this  hour  within  this 
hour. 

Bastard.    Old   Time   the  clock  -  setter,  that   bald   sexton 
Time, 
Is  it  as  he  will  ?  well  then,  France  shall  rue. 

Blanch.  The  sun  's  o'ercast  with  blood  ;  fair  day,  adieu  ! 
Which  is  the  side  that  I  must  go  withal  ? 
I  am  w'ith  both  :  each  army  hath  a  hand  ; 
And  in  their  rage,  I  having  hold  of  both. 
They  whirl  asunder  and  dismember  me.  330 

Husband,  I  cannot  pray  that  thou  mayst  win  ; 
Uncle,  I  needs  must  pray  that  thou  mayst  lose  ; 
Father,  I  may  not  wish  the  fortune  thine  ; 
Grandam,  I  will  not  wish  thy  wishes  thrive  ; 
Whoever  wins,  on  that  side  shall  I  lose  ; 
Assured  loss  before  the  match  be  play'd. 

Lewis.  Lady,  with  me,  with  me  thy  fortune  lies. 

Blanch.  There  where  my  fortune  lives,  there  my  life  dies. 

F 


82  KING  JOHN. 

King  jfohn.  Cousin,  go  draw  our  puissance  together. — 

\Exit  Bastard. 
France,  I  am  burn'd  up  with  inflaming  wrath;  340 

A  rage  whose  heat  hath  this  condition, 
That  nothing  can  allay,  nothing  but  blood, 
The  blood,  and  dearest-valued  blood,  of  France. 

King  Philip.  Thy  rage  shall  burn  thee  up,  and  thou  shalt 
turn 
To  ashes,  ere  our  blood  shall  quench  that  fire ; 
Look  to  thyself,  thou  art  in  jeopardy. 

King  yohn.  No  more  than  he  that  threats. — To  arms  let 's 
hie !  [Exeunt. 

Scene  II.     The  Same.     Plains  near  Angiers. 

Alarums,  excursions.     Enter  the  Bastard,  with   Austria's 

head. 

Bastard.  Now,  by  my  life,  this  day  grows  wondrous  hot ; 
Some  airy  devil  hovers  in  the  sky 
And  pours  down  mischief.     Austria's  head  lie  there, 
While  Philip  breathes. 

Enter  King  John,  Arthur,  and  Hubert. 

King  yohn.  Hubert,  keep  this  boy.^ — Philip,  make  up  ; 
My  mother  is  assailed  in  our  tent. 
And  ta'en,  I  fear. 

Bastard.  My  lord,  I  rescued  her; 

Her  highness  is  in  safety,  fear  you  not : 

But  on,  my  liege  ;  for  very  little  pains  9 

Will  bring  this  labour  to  an  happy  end.  [^Exeunt. 


ACT  III.    SCENE  III.  ej 


Scene  III.     The  Same. 

Alarums,  excursions,  retreat.      Enter   King   John,  Elinor, 
Arthur,  t/ie  Bastard,  Hubert,  and  Lords. 

King  jfohn.  [2b  Elinor']  So  shall  it  be  ;  your  grace  shall 
stay  behind 
So  strongly  guarded. — [To  Arthur]  Cousin,  look  not  sad  : 
Thy  grandam  loves  thee  ;  and  thy  uncle  will 
As  dear  be  to  thee  as  thy  father  was. 

Arthur.  O,  this  will  make  my  mother  die  with  grief! 

King  yohft.   [To  the  Bastard]  Cousin,  away  for  England  ! 
haste  before; 
And,  ere  our  coming,  see  thou  shake  the  bags 
Of  hoarding  abbots.     Set  at  liberty 
Imprison'd  angels;  the  fat  ribs  of  peace 
Must  by  the  hungry  now  be  fed  upon.  lo 

Use  our  commission  in  his  utmost  force. 

Bastard.  Bell,  book,  and  candle  shall  not  drive  me  back, 
When  gold  and  silver  becks  me  to  come  on, 
I  leave  your  highness. — Grandam,  I  will  pray, 
If  ever  I  remember  to  be  holy, 
For  your  fair  safety  ;  so,  I  kiss  your  hand. 

Elinor.  Farewell,  gentle  cousin. 

King  John.  Coz,  farewell.  [Exit  Bastard. 

Eli7ior.  Come  hither,  little  kinsman  ;  hark,  a  word. 

King  yohn.    Come   hither,  Hubert.     O   my  gentle   Hu- 
bert, 
We  owe  thee  much  !  within  this  wall  of  flesh  ao 

There  is  a  soul  counts  thee  her  creditor 
And  with  advantage  means  to  pay  thy  love; 
And,  my  good  friend,  thy  voluntary  oath 
Lives  in  this  bosom,  dearly  cherished. 
Give  me  thy  hand.     I  had  a  thing  to  say, — 
But  I  will  fit  it  with  some  better  time. 


84  KING  JOHN. 

By  heaven,  Hubert,  I  am  almost  asham'd 
To  say  what  good  respect  I  have  of  thee. 

Hubert.   I  am  much  bounden  to  your  majesty. 

King  John.  Good  friend,  thou  hast  no  cause  to  say  so  yet. 
But  thou  shalt  have;  and  creep  time  ne'er  so  slow,  3« 

Yet  it  shall  come  for  me  to  do  thee  good. 
I  had  a  thing  to  say, — but  let  it  go. 
The  sun  is  in  the  heaven,  and  the  proud  day, 
Attended  with  the  pleasures  of  the  world, 
Is  all  too  wanton  and  too  full  of  gawds 
To  give  me  audience.     If  the  midnight  bell 
Did,  with  his  iron  tongue  and  brazen  mouth, 
Sound  on  into  the  drowsy  race  of  night; 
If  this  same  were  a  churchyard  where  we  stand,  40 

And  thou  possessed  with  a  thousand  wrongs. 
Or  if  that  surly  spirit,  melancholy, 
Had  bak'd  thy  blood  and  made  it  heavy-thick, 
Which  else  runs  tickling  up  and  down  the  veins, 
Making  that  idiot,  laughter,  keep  men's  eyes 
And  strain  their  cheeks  to  idle  merriment, 
A  passion  hateful  to  my  purposes. 
Or  if  that  thou  couldst  see  me  without  eyes, 
Hear  me  without  thine  ears,  and  make  reply 
Without  a  tongue,  using  conceit  alone,  5° 

Without  eyes,  ears,  and  harmful  sound  of  words; 
Then,  in  despite  of  brooded  watchful  day, 
I  would  into  thy  bosom  pour  my  thoughts. 
But,  ah,  I  will  not ! — yet  I  love  thee  well ; 
And,  by  my  troth,  I  think  thou  lov'st  me  well. 

Hubert.  So  well,  that  what  you  bid  me  undertake. 
Though  that  my  death  were  adjunct  to  my  act, 
By  heaven,  I  would  do  it! 

King  jfohn.  Do  not  I  know  thou  wouldst  ? 

Good  Hubert,  Hubert, — Hubert,  throw  thine  eye 
On  yon  young  boy :  I  '11  tell  thee  what,  my  friend,  60 


ACT  III.     SCENE  IV.  85 

He  is  a  very  serpent  in  my  way; 
And  vvheresoe'er  this  foot  of  mine  doth  tread, 
He  lies  before  me.     Dost  thou  understand  me? 
Thou  art  his  keeper. 

Hubert.  And  I  '11  keep  him  so, 

That  he  shall  not  offend  your  majesty. 

King  John.  Death. 

Hubert.  My  lord  ? 

King  John.  A  grave. 

Hubert.  .  He  shall  not  live. 

King  John.  Enough. 

I  could  be  merry  now.     Hubert,  I  love  thee ; 
Well,  I  '11  not  say  what  I  intend  for  thee  : 
Remember. — Madam,  fare  you  well; 
I  '11  send  those  powers  o'er  to  your  majesty.  70 

Elinor.  My  blessing  go  with  thee  ! 

King  jfohn.  For  England,  cousin,  go ; 

Hubert  shall  be  your  man,  attend  on  you 
With  all  true  duty. — On  toward  Calais,  ho  !  \Exeunt. 

Scene  IV.     The  Savie.     The  French  King's  Tent. 
Enter  King  Philip,  Lewis,  Pandulph,  and  Attendants. 

King  Philip.   So,  by  a  roaring  tempest  on  the  flood, 
A  whole  armado  of  convicted  sail 
Is  scatter'd  and  disjoin'd  from  fellowship. 

Pandulph.  Courage  and  comfort !  all  shall  yet  go  well. 

King  Philip.  What  can  go  well,  when  we  have  run  so  ill .' 
Are  we  not  beaten  ?     Is  not  Anglers  lost.'' 
Arthur  ta'en  prisoner?  divers  dear  friends  slain  ? 
And  bloody  England  into  England  gone, 
O'erbearing  interruption,  spite  of  France  ? 

Lewis.  What  he  hath  won,  that  hath  he  fortified  ;  10 

So  hot  a  speed  with  such  advice  dispos'd, 
Such  temperate  order  in  so  fierce  a  cause. 


86  KING  JOHN. 

Doth  want  example  :  who  hath  read  or  heard 
Of  any  kindred  action  like  to  this  ? 

King  Philip.  Well  could  I  bear  that   England   had   this 
praise, 
So  we  could  find  some  pattern  of  our  shame. — 

Enter  Constance. 

Look,  who  comes  here  !  a  grave  unto  a  soul ; 

Holding  the  eternal  spirit,  against  her  will, 

In  the  vile  prison  of  afflicted  breath. — 

1  prithee,  lady,  go  away  with  me.  20 

Constance.  Lo,  now  !  now  see  the  issue  of  your  peace. 

King  Philip.  Patience,  good   lady !  comfort,  gentle   Con- 
stance ! 

Constance.  No,  I  defy  all  counsel,  all  redress, 
But  that  which  ends  all  counsel,  true  redress, 
Death,  death. — O  amiable  lovely  death  ! 
Thou  odoriferous  stench!  sound  rottenness! 
Arise  forth  from  the  couch  of  lasting  night, 
Thou  hate  and  terror  to  prosperity. 
And  I  will  kiss  thy  detestable  bones, 

And  put  my  eyeballs  in  thy  vanity  brows,  3° 

And  ring  these  fingers  with  thy  household  worms. 
And  stop  this  gap  of  breath  with  fulsome  dust. 
And  be  a  carrion  monster  like  thyself! 
Come,  grin  on  me,  and  I  will  think  thou  smil'st, 
And  buss  thee  as  thy  wife  !     Misery's  love, 
O  come  to  me  ! 

King  Philip.       O  fair  affliction,  peace  ! 

Constance.  No,  no,  I  will  not,  having  breath  to  cry. — 
O,  that  my  tongue  were  in  the  thunder's  mouth  ! 
Then  with  a  passion  would  I  shake  the  world, 
And  rouse  from  sleep  that  fell  anatomy  40 

Which  cannot  hear  a  lady's  feeble  voice, 
Which  scorns  a  modern  invocation. 


ACT  III.     SCENE  IV.  87 

Pandulph.  Lady,  you  utter  madness,  and  not  sorrow. 

Constance.  Thou  art  not  holy  to  belie  me  so. 
I  am  not  mad  :  this  hair  I  tear  is  mine ; 
My  name  is  Constance ;  I  was  Geffrey's  wife ; 
Young  Arthur  is  my  son,  and  he  is  lost ! 
I  am  not  mad;  I  would  to  heaven  I  were  ! 
For  then,  't  is  like  I  should  forget  myself; 
O,  if  I  could,  what  grief  should  I  forget ! —  50 

Preach  some  philosophy  to  make  me  mad, 
And  thou  shalt  be  canoniz'd,  cardinal; 
For  being  not  mad  but  sensible  of  grief, 
My  reasonable  part  produces  reason 
How  I  may  be  deliver'd  of  these  woes, 
And  teaches  me  to  kill  or  hang  myself. 
If  I  were  mad,  I  should  forget  ray  son, 
Or  madly  think  a  babe  of  clouts  were  he. 
I  am  not  mad;  too  well,  too  well  I  feel 
The  different  plague  of  each  calamity.  60 

King  Philip.  Bind  up  those  tresses. — O,  what  love  I  note 
In  the  fair  multitude  of  those  her  hairs  1 
Where  but  by  chance  a  silver  drop  hath  fallen, 
Even  to  that  drop  ten  thousand  wiry  friends 
Do  glue  themselves  in  sociable  grief, 
Like  true,  inseparable,  faithful  loves. 
Sticking  together  in  calamity. 

Constance.  To  England,  if  you  will. 

King  Philip.  Bind  up  your  hairs. 

Constance.  Yes,  that  I  will;  and  wherefore  will  1  do  it? 
I  tore  them  from  their  bonds,  and  cried  aloud,  70 

*  O  that  these  hands  could  so  redeem  my  son. 
As  they  have  given  these  hairs  their  liberty !' 
But  now  I  envy  at  their  liberty, 
And  will  again  commit  them  to  their  bonds. 
Because  my  poor  child  is  a  prisoner. — 
And,  father  cardinal,  I  have  heard  you  say 


88  KING  JOHN. 

That  we  shall  see  and  know  our  friends  in  heaven  : 

If  that  be  true,  I  shall  see  my  boy  again; 

For  since  the  birth  of  Cain,  the  first  male  child, 

To  him  that  did  but  yesterday  suspire,  84 

There  was  not  such  a  gracious  creature  born. 

But  now  will  canker-sorrow  eat  my  bud, 

And  chase  the  native  beauty  from  his  cheek, 

And  he  will  look  as  hollow  as  a  ghost, 

As  dim  and  meagre  as  an  ague's  fit. 

And  so  he  '11  die;  and,  rising  so  again, 

When  I  shall  meet  him  in  the  court  of  heaven 

I  shall  not  know  him  :  therefore  never,  never 

Must  I  behold  my  pretty  Arthur  more. 

Pandiilph.  You  hold  too  heinous  a  respect  of  grief.  90 

Constance.  He  talks  to  me  that  never  had  a  son. 

King  Philip.  You  are  as  fond  of  grief  as  of  your  child. 

Constance.  Grief  fills  the  room  up  of  my  absent  child. 
Lies  in  his  bed,  walks  up  and  down  with  me, 
Puts  on  his  pretty  looks,  repeats  his  words. 
Remembers  me  of  all  his  gracious  parts. 
Stuffs  out  his  vacant  garments  with  his  form; 
Then,  have  I  reason  to  be  fond  of  grief.'' 
Fare  you  well ;  had  you  such  a  loss  as  I, 
I  could  give  better  comfort  than  you  do. — ■  100 

I  will  not  keep  this  form  upon  my  head, 
When  there  is  such  disorder  in  my  wit. 
O  Lord  !   my  boy,  my  Arthur,  my  fair  son  ! 
My  life,  my  joy,  my  food,  my  all  the  world ! 
My  widow-comfort,  and  my  sorrow's  cure  !  \E,xit. 

King  Philip.  I  fear  some  outrage,  and  I  '11  follow  her. 

\^Exit. 

Lewis.    There  's    nothing   in    this   world    can    make   me 

joy:    _ 
Life  is  as  tedious  as  a  twice-told  tale 

Vexing  the  dull  ear  of  a  drowsy  man  ; 


ACT  III.     SCEA'E  IV.  89 

And  bitter  shame  hath  spoil'd  the  sweet  world's  taste,        no 
That  it  yields  nought  but  shame  and  bitterness. 

Pandulph.  Before  the  curing  of  a  strong  disease, 
Even  in  the  instant  of  repair  and  health, 
The  fit  is  strongest;  evils  that  take  leave, 
On  their  departure  most  of  all  show  evil. 
What  have  you  lost  by  losing  of  this  day  ? 

Lewis.  All  days  of  glory,  joy,  and  happiness. 

PaJidulph.  If  you  had  won  it,  certainly  you  had. 
No,  no;  when  Fortune  means  to  men  most  good. 
She  looks  upon  them  with  a  threatening  eye.  120 

'T  is  strange  to  think  how  much  King  John  hath  lost 
In  this  which  he  accounts  so  clearly  won  ; 
Are  not  you  griev'd  that  Arthur  is  his  prisoner? 

Lewis.  As  heartily  as  he  is  glad  he  hath  him. 

Pa7idulph.  Your  mind  is  all  as  youthful  as  your  blood. 
Now  hear  me  speak  with  a  prophetic  spirit; 
For  even  the  breath  of  what  I  mean  to  speak 
Shall  blow  each  dust,  each  straw,  each  little  rub, 
Out  of  the  path  which  shall  directly  lead 
Thy  foot  to  England's  throne;  and  therefore  mark.  130 

John  hath  seiz'd  Arthur;  and  it  cannot  be 
That,  whiles  warm  life  plays  in  that  infant's  veins, 
The  misplac'd  John  should  entertain  an  hour. 
One  minute,  nay,  one  quiet  breath  of  rest. 
A  sceptre  snatch'd  with  an  unruly  hand 
Must  be  as  boisterously  maintain'd  as  gain'd; 
And  he  that  stands  upon  a  slippery  place 
Makes  nice  of  no  vile  hold  to  stay  him  up. 
That  John  may  stand,  then  Arthur  needs  must  fall; 
So  be  it,  for  it  cannot  be  but  so.  mo 

Lcufis.  But  what  shall  I  gain  by  young  Arthur's  fall .'' 

Pandulph.  You,  in  the  right  of  Lady  Blanch  your  wife, 
May  then  make  all  the  claim  that  Arthur  did. 

Lewis.   And  lose  it,  life  and  all,  as  Arthur  did. 


go  KING  JOHN. 

Fandulph.    How  green   you   are   and  fresh  in    this   old 
world  ! 
John  lays  you  plots;  the  times  conspire  with  you; 
For  he  that  steeps  his  safety  in  true  blood 
Shall  find  but  bloody  safety  and  untrue. 
This  act  so  evilly  born  shall  cool  the  hearts 
Of  all  his  people  and  freeze  up  their  zeal,  150 

That  none  so  small  advantage  shall  step  forth 
To  check  his  reign,  but  they  will  cherish  it; 
No  natural  exhalation  in  the  sky, 
No  scope  of  nature,  no  distemper'd  day, 
No  common  wind,  no  customed  event, 
But  they  will  pluck  away  his  natural  cause 
And  call  them  meteors,  prodigies,  and  signs, 
Abortives,  presages,  and  tongues  of  heaven, 
Plainly  denouncing  vengeance  upon  John. 

Lewis.  May  be  he  will  not  touch  young  Arthur's  life,      160 
But  hold  himself  safe  in  his  prisonment. 

Pandulph.  O,  sir,  when  he  shall  hear  of  your  approach, 
If  that  young  Arthur  be  not  gone  already. 
Even  at  that  news  he  dies ;  and  then  the  hearts 
Of  all  his  people  shall  revolt  from  him. 
And  kiss  the  lips  of  unacquainted  change. 
And  pick  strong  matter  of  revolt  and  wrath 
Out  of  the  bloody  fingers'  ends  of  John. 
Methinks  I  see  this  hurly  all  on  foot; 

And,  O,  what  better  matter  breeds  for  you  ivc 

Than  I  have  nam'd  !     The  bastard  Faulconbridge 
Is  now  in  England,  ransacking  the  church, 
Offending  charity;  if  but  a  dozen  French 
Were  there  in  arms,  they  would  be  as  a  call 
To  train  ten  thousand  English  to  their  side, 
Or  as  a  little  snow,  tumbled  about, 
Anon  becomes  a  mountain.     O  noble  Dauphin, 
Go  with  me  to  the  king;  't  is  wonderful 


ACT  III.    SCENE  IV. 


91 


i8o 


What  may  be  wrought  out  of  their  discontent, 
Now  that  their  souls  are  topfull  of  offence. 
For  England  go;  I  will  whet  on  the  king, 

Lewis.  Strong  reasons  make  strong  actions;  let  us  go: 
If  you  say  ay,  the  king  will  not  say  no.  [Exewii. 


THE   MARRIAGE   OF    LEWIS    AND    BLANCH. 


All  murthers  past  do  stand  excused  in  this  (iv.  3.  51). 


ACT  IV. 

Scene  I.    A  Room  in  a  Castle. 

Enter  Hubert  and  two  Attendants, 

Hubert.  Heat  me  these  irons  hot;  and  look  thou  stand 
Within  the  arras:  when  I  strike  my  foot 
Upon  the  bosom  of  the  ground,  rush  forth, 
And  bind  the  boy  which  you  shall  find  with  me 
Fast  to  the  chair.     Be  heedful ;  hence,  and  watch. 


ACT  /r.     SCEA'E  /.  Q3 

I  Attendant.  1  hope  your  warrant  will  bear  out  the  deed. 
Hubert.  Uncleanly  scruples!  fear  not  you;  look  to  't. — 

\^Exeu7it  Attendants. 
Young  lad,  come  forth ;  I  have  to  say  with  you. 

Enter  Arthur. 

Arthur.  Good  morrow,  Hubert. 

Hubert.  Good  morrow,  little  prince. 

Arthur.  As  little  prince,  having  so  great  a  title  lo 

To  be  more  prince,  as  may  be.     You  are  sad. 

Hubert.  Indeed,  I  have  been  merrier.     -. 

Arthur.  Mercy  on  me  ! 

Methinks  nobody  should  be  sad  but  I; 
Yet,  I  remember,  when  I  was  in  France, 
Young  gentlemen  would  be  as  sad  as  night. 
Only  for  wantonness.     By  my  Christendom, 
So  I  were  out  of  prison  and  kept  sheep, 
I  should  be  as  merry  as  the  day  is  long; 
And  so  I  would  be  here,  but  that  I  doubt 
My  uncle  practises  more  harm  to  me :  20 

He  is  afraid  of  me  and  I  of  him. 
Is  it  my  fault  that  I  was  Geffrey's  son  ? 
No,  indeed,  is  't  not;  and  I  would  to  heaven 
I  were  your  son,  so  you  would  love  me,  Hubert. 

Hubert.  [Aside]  If  I  talk  to  him,  with  his  innocent  prate 
He  will  awake  my  mercy  which  lies  dead; 
Therefore  I  will  be  sudden  and  dispatch. 

Arthur.  Are  you  sick,  Hubert  ?  you  look  pale  to-day. 
In  sooth,  I  would  you  were  a  little  sick. 
That  I  might  sit  all  night  and  watch  with  you;  30 

I  warrant  I  love  you  more  than  you  do  me. 

Hubert.  [Aside]  His  words  do  take  possession  of  my  bos- 
om.— 
Read  here,  young  Arthur. —  [Showing  a  paper. 

[Aside]  How  now,  foolish  rheum  .' 


94  KING  JOHN. 

Turning  dispiteous  torture  out  of  door  I 

I  must  be  brief,  lest  resolution  drop 

Out  at  mine  eyes  in  tender  womanish  tears. — 

Can  you  not  read  it?  is  it  not  fair  writ? 

Arthur.  Too  fairly,  Hubert,  for  so  foul  effect. 
Must  you  with  hot  irons  burn  out  both  mine  eyes? 

Hubert.  Young  boy,  I  must. 

Arthur.  And  will  you  ? 

Hubert.  And  I  will,    it^ 

Arthur.  Have  you  the  heart?    When  your  head  did  but/ 
ache,  4, 

I  knit  my  handkercher  about  your  brows, — 
The  best  I  had,  a  princess  wrought  it  me, — 
And  I  did  never  ask  it  you  again  ; 
And  with  my  hand  at  midnight  held  your  head, 
And  like  the  watchful  minutes  to  the  hour, 
Still  and  anon  cheer'd  up  the  heavy  time, 
Saying,  *  What  lack  you  ?'  and  '  Where  lies  your  grief?' 
Or  '  What  good  love  may  I  perform  for  you  ?' 
Many  a  poor  man's  son  would  have  lien  still,  50 

And  ne'er  have  spoke  a  loving  word  to  you; 
But  you  at  your  sick  service  had  a  prince. 
Nay,  you  may  think  my  love  was  crafty  love 
And  call  it  cunning.     Do,  an  if  you  will. 
If  heaven  be  pleas'd  that  you  must  use  me  ill, 
Why  then  you  must.     Will  you  put  out  mine  eyes? 
These  eyes  that  never  did  nor  never  shall 
So  much  as  frown  on  you. 

Hubert.  I  have  sworn  to  do  it. 

And  with  hot  irons  must  I  burn  them  out. 

Arthur.  Ah,  none  but  in  this  iron  age  would  do  it !  6a 

The  iron  of  itself,  though  heat  red-hot, 
Approaching  near  these  eyes,  would  drink  my  tears 
And  quench  his  fiery  indignation 
Even  in  the  matter  of  mine  innocence; 


ACT  IV.     SCENE  I.  95 

Nay,  after  that,  consume  away  in  rust, 
But  for  containing  fire  to  harm  mine  eye. 
Are  you  more  stubborn-hard  than  hammer'd  iron  ? 
An  if  an  angel  should  have  come  to  me 
And  told  me  Hubert  should  put  out  mine  eyes, 
I  would  not  have  believ'd  him, — no  tongue  but  Hubert's.    70 
Hubert.  Come  forth.  [Statfips. 

Re-enter  Attendants,  with  a  cord,  irons,  etc. 

Do  as  I  bid  you  do. 

Arthur.  O,  save  me,  Hubert,  save  me  !  my  eyes  are  out 
Even  with  the  fierce  looks  of  these  bloody  men. 

Hjiberf.  Give  me  the  iron,  I  say,  and  bind  him  here. 

Arthur.  Alas,  what  need  you  be  so  boisterous-rough  ? 
I  will  not  struggle,  I  will  stand  stone-still. 
For  heaven  sake,  Hubert,  let  me  not  be  bound  ! 
Nay,  hear  me,  Hubert,  drive  these  men  away, 
And  I  will  sit  as  quiet  as  a  lamb ;  8° 

I  will  not  stir,  nor  wince,  nor  speak  a  word, 
Nor  look  upon  the  iron  angerly. 
Thrust  but  these  men  away,  and  I  '11  forgive  you, 
Whatever  torment  you  do  put  me  to. 

Hubert.  Go,  stand  within;  let  me  alone  with  him. 

I  Attendant.  I  am  best  pleas'd  to  be  from  such  a  deed. 

[^Exeunt  Attendants. 

Arthur.  Alas,  I  then  have  chid  away  my  friend  ! 
He  hath  a  stern  look,  but  a  gentle  heart; 
Let  him  come  back,  that  his  compassion  may 
Give  life  to  yours. 

Hubert.  Come,  boy,  prepare  yourself.  90 

Arthur.  Is  there  no  remedy .'' 

Hubert.  None,  but  to  lose  your  eyes. 

Arthur.  O  heaven,  that  there  were  but  a  mote  in  youns, 
A  grain,  a  dust,  a  gnat,  a  wandering  hair, 
Any  annoyance  in  that  precious  sense  ! 


96  A'/XG  JOHN. 

Then  feeling  what  small  things  are  boisterous  there, 
Your  vile  intent  must  needs  seem  horrible. 

Hubert.   Is  this  your  promise?  go  to,  hold  your  tongue. 

Arthur.   Hubert;  the  utterance  of  a  brace  of  tongues 
Must  needs  want  pleading  for  a  pair  of  eyes  : 
Let  me  not  hold  my  tongue,  let  me  not,  Hubert; 
Or,  Hubert,  if  you  will,  cut  out  my  tongue, 
So  I  may  keep  mine  eyes.     O,  spare  mine  eyes, 
Though  to  no  use  but  still  to  look  on  you  ! 
Lo,  by  my  troth,  the  instrument  is  cold 
And  would  not  harm  me. 

Hubert.  I  can  heat  it,  boy. 

Arthur.  No,  in  good  sooth;  the  fire  is  dead  with  grief. 
Being  create  for  comfort,  to  be  us'd 
In  undeserv'd  extremes.     See  else  yourself: 
There  is  no  malice  in  this  burning  coal; 
The  breath  of  heaven  has  blown  his  spirit  out, 
And  strew'd  repentant  ashes  on  his  head. 

Hubert.   But  with  my  breath  I  can  revive  it,  boy. 

Arthur.   An  if  you  do,  you  will  but  make  it  blush 
And  glow  with  shame  of  your  proceedings,  Hubert: 
Nay,  it  perchance  will  sparkle  in  your  eyes; 
And  like  a  dog  that  is  compell'd  to  fight. 
Snatch  at  his  master  that  doth  tarre  him  on. 
All  things  that  you  should  use  to  do  me  wrong 
Deny  their  ofiice ;  only  you  do  lack 
That  mercy  which  fierce  fire  and  iron  extends. 
Creatures  of  note  for  mercy-lacking  uses. 

Hubert.  Well,  see  to  live;  I  will  not  touch  thjne  eye 
For  all  the  treasure  that  thine  uncle  owes: 
Yet  am  I  sworn,  and  I  did  purpose,  boy, 
AVith  this  same  very  iron  to  burn  them  out. 

Arthur.   O,  now  you  look  like  Hubert !  all  this  while 
You  were  disguised. 

Hubert.  Peace!  no  more.     Adieu. 


ACT  IF.    SCENE  I. 


97 


Your  uncle  must  not  know  but  you  are  dead: 

I  '11  fill  these  dogged  spies  with  false  reports ; 

And,  pretty  child,  sleep  doubtless  and  secure,  130 

That  Hubert,  for  the  wealth  of  all  the  world, 

Will  not  offend  thee. 

Arthur.  O  heaven  !  I  thank  you,  Hubert. 

Hubert.   Silence !  no  more.     Go  closely  in  with  me  ; 
Much  danger  do  I  undergo  for  thee.  \^Exeimt. 

Scene  H.     King  Johii's  Palace. 
Enter  King  John,  Pembroke,  Salisbury,  and  other  Lords. 

King  John.  Here  once  again  we  sit,  once  again  crown'd, 
And  look'd  upon,  I  hope,  with  cheerful  eyes. 

Pembroke.  This  once  again,  but  that  your  highness  pleas'd, 
Was  once  superfluous  :  you  were  crown'd  before, 
And  that  high  royalty  was  ne'er  pluck'd  off. 
The  faiths  of  men  ne'er  stained  with  revolt; 
Fresh  expectation  troubled  not  the  land 
With  any  long'd-for  change  or  better  state. 

Salisbury.  Therefore,  to  be  possess'd  with  double  pomp, 
To  guard  a  title  that  was  rich  before,  10 

To  gild  refined  gold,  to  paint  the  lily. 
To  throw  a  perfume  on  the  violet. 
To  smooth  the  ice,  or  add  another  hue 
Unto  the  rainbow,  or  with  taper-light 
To  seek  the  beauteous  eye  of  heaven  to  garnish. 
Is  wasteful  and  ridiculous  excess. 

Pembroke.  But  that  your  royal  pleasure  must  be  done, 
This  act  is  as  an  ancient  tale  new  told, 
And  in  the  last  repeating  troublesome, 
Being  urged  at  a  time  unseasonable.  20 

Salisbury.  In  this  the  antique  and  well  noted  face 
Of  plain  old  form  is  much  disfigured; 
And,  like  a  shifted  wind  unto  a  sail, 

G 


c,8  KING  JOHN. 

It  makes  the  course  of  thoughts  to  fetch  about, 
Startles  and  frights  consideration, 
Makes  sound  opinion  sick  and  truth  suspected, 
For  putting  on  so  new  a  fashion'd  robe. 

Pembroke.  When  workmen  strive  to  do  better  than  well. 
They  do  confound  their  skill  in  covetousness  ; 
And  oftentimes  excusing  of  a  fault  3° 

Doth  make  the  fault  the  worse  by  the  excuse, — 
As  patches  set  upon  a  little  breach 
Discredit  more  in  hiding  of  the  fault 
Than  did  the  fault  before  it  was  so  patch'd. 

Salisbury.  To  this  effect,  before  you  were  new  crown'd, 
We  breath'd  our  counsel ;  but  it  pleas'd  your  highness 
To  overbear  it,  and  we  are  all  well  pleas'd, 
Since  all  and  every  part  of  what  we  would 
Doth  make  a  stand  at  what  your  highness  will. 

King  jfohn.  Some  reasons  of  this  double  coronation       40 
I  have  possess'd  you  with  and  think  them  strong; 
And  more,  more  strong,  when  lesser  is  my  fear, 
I  shall  indue  you  with  :  meantime  but  ask 
What  you  would  have  reform'd  that  is  not  well. 
And  well  shall  you  perceive  how  willingly 
I  will  both  hear  and  grant  you  your  requests. 

Pembroke.  Then  I, — as  one  that  am  the  tongue  of  these. 
To  sound  the  purposes  of  all  their  hearts. 
Both  for  myself  and  them,  but,  chief  of  all. 
Your  safety,  for  the  which  myself  and  them  so 

Bend  iheir  best  studies, — heartily  request 
The  enfranchisement  of  Arthur  ;  whose  restraint 
Doth  move  the  murmuring  lips  of  discontent 
To  break  into  this  dangerous  argument, — 
If  what  in  rest  you  have  in  right  you  hold. 
Why  then  your  fears,  which,  as  they  say,  attend 
The  steps  of  wrong,  should  move  you  to  mew  up 
Your  tender  kinsman,  and  to  choke  his  days 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  II. 


99 


With  barbarous  ignorance,  and  deny  iiis  youth 

The  rich  advantage  of  good  exercise  ?  bo 

That  the  time's  enemies  may  not  have  this 

To  grace  occasions,  let  it  be  our  suit 

That  you  have  bid  us  ask  his  Hberty ; 

Which  for  our  goods  we  do  no  further  ask 

Than  whereupon  our  weal,  on  you  depending, 

Counts  it  your  weal  he  have  his  liberty. 

Enter  Hubert. 

King  John.  Let  it  be  so ;  I  do  commit  his  youth 
To  your  direction. — Hubert,  what  news  with  you .-' 

\Taki?ig hitn  apart. 

Pembroke.  This  is  the  man  should  do  the  bloody  deed ; 
He  show'd  his  warrant  to  a  friend  of  mine.  70 

The  image  of  a  wicked  heinous  fault 
Lives  in  his  eye  :  that  close  aspect  of  his 
Does  show  the  mood  of  a  much  troubled  breast; 
And  I  do  fearfully  believe  't  is  done, 
What  we  so  fear'd  he  had  a  charge  to  do. 

Salisbury.  The  colour  of  the  king  doth  come  and  go 
Between  his  purpose  and  his  conscience, 
Like  heralds  'twixt  two  dreadful  battles  set; 
His  passion  is  so  ripe,  it  needs  must  break. 

Pembroke.  And  when  it  breaks,  I  fear  will  issue  thence     80 
The  foul  corruption  of  a  sweet  child's  death. 

King  John.  We  cannot  hold  mortality's  strong  hand. — 
Good  lords,  although  my  will  to  give  is  living. 
The  suit  which  you  demand  is  gone  and  dead; 
He  tells  us  Arthur  is  deceas'd  to-night. 

Salisbury.   Indeed  we  fear'd  his  sickness  was  past  cure. 

Pembroke.  Indeed  we  heard  how  near  his  death  he  was 
Before  the  child  himself  felt  he  was  sick. 
This  must  be  answer'd  either  here  or  hence. 

King  jfohn.  Wliy  do  you  bend  such  solemn  brows  on  me  ? 


lOO  KING  JOHN. 

Think  you  I  bear  the  shears  of  destiny?  9' 

Have  I  commandment  on  the  pulse  of  life  ? 

Salisbury.   It  is  apparent  foul  play ;  and  't  is  shame 
That  greatness  should  so  grossly  offer  it. 
So  thrive  it  in  your  game  !  and  so,  farewell. 

Pembroke.  Stay  yet,  Lord  Salisbury ;  I  '11  go  with  thee, 
And  find  the  inheritance  of  this  poor  child. 
His  little  kingdom  of  a  forced  grave. 
That  blood  which  owed  the  breadth  of  all  this  isle, 
Three  foot  of  it  doth  hold;  bad  world  the  while  !  loo 

This  must  not  be  thus  borne  ;  this  will  break  out 
To  all  our  sorrows,  and  ere  long  I  doubt.        \Exeitnt  Lords. 

King  yohn.  They  burn  in  indignation.     I  repent; 
There  is  no  sure  foundation  set  on  blood. 
No  certain  life  achiev'd  by  others'  death. — 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

A  fearful  eye  thou  hast ;  where  is  that  blood 

That  I  have  seen  inhabit  in  those  cheeks  ? 

So  foul  a  sky  clears  not  without  a  storm  ; 

Pour  down  thy  weather. — How  goes  all  in  France? 

Messenger.  From  France  to  England.    Never  such  a  power 
For  any  foreign  preparation  m 

Was  levied  in  the  body  of  a  land. 
The  copy  of  your  speed  is  learn'd  by  them; 
For  when  you  should  be  told  they  do  prepare, 
The  tidings  comes  that  they  are  all  arriv'd. 

King  yohn.  O,  where  hath  our  intelligence  been  drunk? 
Where  hath  it  slept  ?    Where  is  my  mother's  care. 
That  such  an  army  could  be  drawn  in  France, 
And  she  not  hear  of  it  ? 

Messenger.  My  liege,  her  ear 

Is  stopp'd  with  dust ;  the  first  of  April  died  120 

Your  noble  mother :  and,  as  I  hear,  my  lord, 
The  Lady  Constance  in  a  frenzy  died 


ACT  IF.    SCENE  II.  loi 

Three  days  before.     But  this  from  rumour's  tongue 
I  idly  heard ;  if  true  or  false  I  know  not. 

King  John.  Withhold  thy  speed,  dreadful  Occasion ! 
O,  make  a  league  with  me,  till  I  have  pleas'd 
My  discontented  peers  ! — What !  mother  dead  ! 
How  wildly  then  walks  my  estate  in  France ! — 
Under  whose  conduct  came  those  powers  of  France 
That  thou  for  truth  giv'st  out  are  landed  here  ?  no 

Messenger.  Under  the  Dauphin. 

King  John,  Thou  hast  made  me  giddy 

With  these  ill  tidings. — 

Enter  the  Bastard  and  Peter  of  Pomfret. 

Now,  what  says  the  world 
To  your  proceedings?  do  not  seek  to  stuff 
My  head  with  more  ill  news,  for  it  is  full. 

Bastard.  But  if  you  be  afeard  to  hear  the  worst, 
Then  let  the  worst  unheard  fall  on  your  head. 

King  John.  Bear  with  me,  cousin  ;  for  I  was  amaz'd 
Under  the  tide  :  but  now  I  breathe  again 
Aloft  the  flood,  and  can  give  audience 
To  any  tongue,  speak  it  of  what  it  will.  mo 

Bastard.  How  I  have  sped  among  the  clergymen, 
The  sums  I  have  collected  shall  express. 
But  as  I  travell'd  hither  through  the  land, 
I  find  the  people  strangely  fantasied ; 
Possess'd  with  rumours,  full  of  idle  dreams, 
Not  knowing  what  they  fear,  but  full  of  fear : 
And  here's  a  prophet,  that  I  brought  with  me 
From  forth  the  streets  of  Pomfret,  whom  I  found 
With  many  hundreds  treading  on  his  heels  ; 
To  whom  he  sung,  in  rude  harsh-sounding  rhymes,  150 

That,  ere  the  next  Ascension-day  at  noon. 
Your  highness  should  deliver  up  your  crown. 

King  yohn.  Thou  idle  dreamer,  wherefore  didst  thou  so  ? 


I02  KING  JOHN. 

Peter.  Foreknowing  that  the  truth  will  fall  out  so. 

King  John.   Hubert,  away  with  him  ;  imprison  him; 
And  on  that  day  at  noon,  whereon  he  says 
I  shall  yield  up  my  crown,  let  him  be  hang'd. 
Deliver  him  to  safety;  and  return, 
For  I  must  use  thee. —  {^Exit  Hubert  with  Peter. 

O  my  gentle  cousin, 
Hear'st  thou  the  news  abroad,  who  are  arriv'd  ?  i6o 

Bastard.  The  French,  my  lord ;  men's  mouths  are  full  of 
it: 
Besides,  I  met  Lord  Bigot  and  Lord  Salisbury, 
With  eyes  as  red  as  new-enkindled  fire, 
And  others  more,  going  to  seek  the  grave 
Of  Arthur,  whom  they  say  is  kill'd  to-night 
On  your  suggestion. 

King  John.  Gentle  kinsman,  go, 

And  thrust  thyself  into  their  companies. 
I  have  a  wav  to  win  their  loves  again  ; 
Bring  them  before  me. 

Bastard,  I  will  seek  them  out. 

King  Jolm.    Nay,  but    make  haste;    the  better  foot  be- 
fore.   ,yO 

O,  let  me  have  no  subject  enemies, 
■  When  adverse  foreigners  affright  my  towns 
With  dreadful  pomp  of  stout  invasion  !^ 
Be  Mercur}',  set  feathers  to  thy  heels. 
And  fly  like  thought  from  them  to  me  again. 

Bastard.  The  spirit  of  the  time  shall  teach  me  speed. 

\Exit. 

King  yohn.  Spoke  like  a  sprightful  noble  gentleman. — 
Go  after  him ;  for  he  perhaps  shall  need 
Some  messenger  betwixt  me  and  the  peers, 
And  be  thou  he. 

Messefiger.  With  all  my  heart,  my  liege.  [Exit. 

King  yohn.  My  mother  dead  !  iSi 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  II.  103 

Re-enter  Hubert. 

Hubert.  My  lord,  they  say  five  moons  were  seen  to-night; 
Four  fixed,  and  the  fifth  did  whirl  about 
The  other  four  in  wondrous  motion. 

King  yohn.  Five  moons  I 

Hubert.  Old  men  and  beldams  in  the  streets 

Do  prophesy  upon  it  dangerously. 
Young  Arthur's  death  is  common  in  their  mouths  : 
And  when  they  talk  of  him,  they  shake  their  heads 
And  whisper  one  another  in  the  ear ; 

And  he  that  speaks  doth  gripe  the  hearer's  wrist,  19° 

Whilst  he  that  hears  makes  fearful  action. 
With  wrinkled  brows,  with  nods,  with  rolling  eyes, 
I  saw  a  smith  stand  with  his  hammer,  thus. 
The  whilst  his  iron  did  on  the  anvil  cool, 
With  open  mouth  swallowing  a  tailor's  news  ; 
Who,  with  his  shears  and  measure  in  his  hand, 
Standing  on  slippers,  which  his  nimble  haste 
Had  falsely  thrust  upon  contrary  feet. 
Told  of  a  many  thousand  warlike  French 
That  were  embattailed  and  rank'd  in  Kent.  200 

Another  lean  unwash'd  artificer 
Cuts  off  his  tale  and  talks  of  Arthur's  death. 

King  John.  Why  seek'st  thou  to  possess,  me  with  these 
fears  ? 
Why  urgest  thou  so  oft  young  Arthur's  death  ? 
Thy  hand  hath  murther'd  him ;  I  had  a  mighty  cause 
To  wish  him  dead,  but  thou  hadst  none  to  kill  him. 

Hubert.  No  had,  my  lord  !  why,  did  you  not  provoke  me  ? 

King  John.  It  is  the  curse  of  kings  to  be  attended 
By  slaves  that  take  their  humours  for  a  warrant 
To  break  within  the  bloody  house  of  life,  210 

And  on  the  winking  of  authority 
To  understand  a  law,  to  know  the  n>eaning 


I04  KING  JOHN. 

Of  dangerous  majesty,  when  perchance  it  frowns 
More  upon  humour  than  advis'd  respect. 

Hubert.  Here  is  your  hand  and  seal  for  what  I  did. 

King  John.  O,  when  the  last  account  'twixt  heaven  and 
earth 
Is  to  be  made,  then  shall  this  hand  and  seal 
Witness  against  us  to  damnation  I 
How  oft  the  sight  of  means  to  do  ill  deeds 
Make  deeds  ill  done!     Hadst  not  thou  been  by,  220 

A  fellow  by  the  hand  of  nature  mark'd, 
Quoted,  and  sign'd  to  do  a  deed  of  shame, 
This  murther  had  not  come  into  my  mind; 
But  taking  note  of  thy  abhorr'd  aspect, 
Finding  thee  fit  for  bloody  villany. 
Apt,  liable  to  be  employ'd  in  danger, 
I  faintly  broke  with  thee  of  Arthur's  death ; 
And  thou,  to  be  endeared  to  a  king. 
Made  it  no  conscience  to  destroy  a  prince. 

Hubert.  My  lord, —  230 

■King  jFohn.  Hadst  thou  but  shook  thy  head  or  made  a 
pause 
When  I  spake  darkly  what  I  purposed. 
Or  turn'd  an  eye  of  doubt  upon  my  face, 
As  bid  me  tell  my  tale  in  express  words, 
Deep  shame  had  struck  me  dumb,  made  me  break  off, 
And  those  thy  fears  might  have  wrought  fears  in  me  ; 
But  thou  didst  understand  me  by  my  signs. 
And  didst  in  signs  again  parley  with  sin, 
Yea,  without  stop,  didst  let  thy  heart  consent, 
And  consequently  thy  rude  hand  to  act  240 

The  deed,  which  both  our  tongues  held  vile  to  name. 
Out  of  my  sight,  and  never  see  me  more  ! 
My  nobles  leave  me  ;  and  my  state  is  brav'd. 
Even  at  my  gates,  with  ranks  of  foreign  powers : 
Nay,  in  the  body  of  this  fleshly  land. 


ACT  IV.     SCENE  III.  1 05 

This  kingdom,  this  confine  of  blood  and  breath, 

Hostility  and  civil  tumult  reigns 

Between  my  conscience  and  my  cousin's  death. 

Hubert.  Arm  you  against  your  other  enemies, 
I  '11  make  a  peace  between  your  soul  and  you.  250 

Young  Arthur  is  alive  ;  this  hand  of  mine 
Is  yet  a  maiden  and  an  innocent  hand, 
Not  painted  with  the  crimson  spots  of  blood. 
Within  this  bosom  never  enter'd  yet 
The  dreadful  motion  of  a  murtherous  thought ; 
And  you  have  slander'd  nature  in  my  form, 
Which,  howsoever  rude  exteriorly. 
Is  yet  the  cover  of  a  fairer  mind 
Than  to  be  butcher  of  an  innocent  child. 

Kitig  John.  Doth  Arthur  live  ?    O,  haste  thee  to  the  peers. 
Throw  this  report  on  their  incensed  rage,  26' 

And  make  them  tame  to  their  obedience  ! 
Forgive  the  comment  that  my  passion  made 
Upon  thy  feature  ;  for  my  rage  was  blind. 
And  foul  imaginary  eyes  of  blood 
Presented  thee  more  hideous  than  thou  art. 
O,  answer  not,  but  to  my  closet  bring 
The  angry  lords  with  all  expedient  haste. 
I  conjure  thee  but  slowly  ;  run  more  fast.  \Excimt. 

Scene  III.     Before  the  Castle. 
Enter  Arthur,  on  the  walls. 

Arthur.  The  wall  is  high,  and  yet  will  I  leap  down.— 
Good  ground,  be  pitiful  and  hurt  me  not! — 
There  's  few  or  none  do  know  me  ;  if  they  did. 
This  ship-boy's  semblance  hath  disguis'd  me  quite. 
I  am  afraid  ;  and  yet  I  '11  venture  it. 
If  I  get  down,  and  do  not  break  my  limbs, 
I  '11  find  a  thousand  shifts  to  get  away ; 


io6  KING  JOHN. 

As  good  to  die  and  go,  as  die  and  stay.  \_Leaps  dovKi. 

O  me  !  my  uncle's  spirit  is  in  these  stones. —  9 

Heaven  take  my  soul,  and  England  keep  my  bones !     \Dies. 

Enter  Pembroke,  Salisbury,  a7id  Bigot. 

Salisbury.  Lords,  I  will  meet  him  at  Saint  Edmundsbury; 
It  is  our  safety,  and  we  must  embrace 
This  gentle  offer  of  the  perilous  time. 

Pembroke.  Who  brought  that  letter  from  the  cardinal? 

Salisbury.  The  Count  Melun,a  noble  lord  of  France ; 
Whose  private  with  me  of  the  Dauphin's  love 
Is  much  more  general  than  these  lines  import. 

Bigot.  To-morrow  morning  let  us  meet  him  then. 

Salisbury.  Or  rather  then  set  forward  ;  for  't  will  be 
Two  long  days'  journey,  lords,  or  ere  we  meet.  ao 

Efiter  the  Bastard. 

Bastard.  Once  more  to-day  well  met,  distemper'd  lords ! 
The  king  by  me  requests  your  presence  straight. 

Salisbury.  The  king  hath  dispossess'd  himself  of  us: 
We  will  not  line  his  thin  bestained  cloak 
With  our  pure  honours,  nor  attend  the  foot 
That  leaves  the  print  of  blood  where'er  it  walks. 
Return  and  tell  him  so ;  we  know  the  worst. 

Bastard.  Whate'er  you  think,  good  words,  I  think,  were  best. 

Salisbury.  Our  griefs,  and  not  our  manners,  reason  now. 

Bastard.  But  there  is  little  reason  in  your  grief;  30 

Therefore  't  were  reason  you  had  manners  now. 

Pembroke.  Sir,  sir,  impatience  hath  his  privilege. 

Bastard.  'T  is  true,  to  hurt  his  master,  no  man  else. 

Salisbury.  This  is  the  prison.     What  is  he  lies  here .'' 

YSceifig  Arthur. 

Pembroke.  O  death,  made  proud  with  pure  and  princely 
beauty  ! 
The  earth  had  not  a  hole  to  hide  this  deed. 


ACT  IV.     SCENE  III.  107 

Salisbury.  Murther,  as  hating  what  himself  hath  done, 
Doth  lay  it  open  to  urge  on  revenge. 

Bigot.  Or,  when  he  doom'd  this  beauty  to  a  grave, 
Found  it  too  precious-princely  for  a  grave.  40 

Salisbury.   Sir  Richard,  what   think  you  ?   have  you  be- 
held, 
Or  have  you  read  or  heard?  or  could  you  think? 
Or  do  you  almost  think,  although  you  see, 
That  you  do  see?  could  thought,  without  this  object. 
Form  such  another?     This  is  the  very  top, 
The  height,  the  crest,  or  crest  unto  the  crest, 
Of  murther's  arms  ;  this  is  the  bloodiest  shame. 
The  wildest  savagery,  the  vilest  stroke. 
That  ever  wall-eyed  wrath  or  staring  rage 
Presented  to  the  tears  of  soft  remorse.  5° 

Pembroke.  All  murthers  past  do  stand  excus'd  in  this ; 
And  this,  so  sole  and  so  unmatchable, 
Shall  give  a  holiness,  a  purity. 
To  the  yet  unbegotten  sin  of  times, 
And  prove  a  deadly  bloodshed  but  a  jest, 
Exampled  by  this  heinous  spectacle. 

Bastard.  It  is  a  damned  and  a  bloody  work  ; 
The  graceless  action  of  a  heavy  hand, 
If  that  it  be  the  work  of  any  hand. 

Salisbury.   If  that  it  be  the  work  of  any  hand  !  60 

We  had  a  kind  of  light  what  would  ensue. 
It  is  the  shameful  work  of  Hubert's  hand, 
The  practice  and  the  purpose  of  the  king; 
From  whose  obedience  I  forbid  my  soul, 
Kneeling  before  this  ruin  of  sweet  life, 
And  breathing  to  his  breathless  excellence 
The  incense  of  a  vow,  a  holy  vow. 
Never  to  taste  the  pleasures  of  the  world, 
Never  to  be  infected  with  delight. 
Nor  conversant  with  ease  and  idleness,  70 


io8  KING  JOHN. 

Till  I  have  set  a  glory  to  this  head, 
By  giving  it  the  worship  of  revenge. 

'  )■    Our  souls  religiously  confirm  thy  words. 

Enter  Hubert. 

Hubert.  Lords,  I  am  hot  with  haste  in  seeking  you. 
Arthur  doth  live  ;  the  king  hath  sent  for  you. 

Salisbury.  O,  he  is  bold  and  blushes  not  at  death. — 
Avaunt,  thou  hateful  villain,  get  thee  gone  ! 

Hubert.  I  am  no  villain. 

Salisbury.  Must  I  rob  the  law  ? 

[^Drawing  his  sword. 

Bastard.  Your  sword  is  bright,  sir  ;  put  it  up  again. 

Salisbury.  Not  till  I  sheathe  it  in  a  murtherer's  skin.       So 

Hubert.  Stand  back,  Lord  Salisbury,  stand  back,  I  say ; 
By  heaven,  I  think  my  sword  's  as  sharp  as  yours. 
I  would  not  have  you,  lord,  forget  yourself, 
Nor  tempt  the  danger  of  my  true  defence ; 
Lest  I,  by  marking  of  your  rage,  forget 
Your  worth,  your  greatness,  and  nobility. 

Bigot.  Out,  dunghill !  dar'st  thou  brave  a  nobleman  ? 

Hubert.  Not  for  my  life;  but  yet  I  dare  defend 
My  innocent  life  against  an  emperor.  89 

Salisbury.  Thou  art  a  murtherer. 

Hubert.  Do  not  prove  me  so. 

Yet  I  am  none :  whose  tongue  soe'er  speaks  false, 
Not  truly  speaks ;  who  speaks  not  truly,  lies. 

Pembroke.  Cut  him  to  pieces. 

Bastard.  Keep  the  peace,  I  say. 

Salisbury.  Stand  by,  or  I  shall  gall  you,  Faulconbridge. 

Bastard.  Thou  wert  better  gall  the  devil,  Salisbury ; 
If  thou  but  frown  on  me,  or  stir  thy  foot, 
Or  teach  thy  hasty  spleen  to  do  me  shame, 
I  '11  strike  thee  dead.     Put  up  thy  sword  betime  ; 


ACT  IV.     SCENE  III.  109 

Or  I  '11  so  maul  you  and  your  toasting-iron, 

That  you  shall  think  the  devil  is  come  from  hell.  100 

Bigot.  What  wilt  thou  do,  renowned  Faulconbridge  ? 
Second  a  villain  and  a  murtherer  ?  * 

Hubert.  Lord  Bigot,  I  am  none. 

Bigot.  Who  kill'd  this  prince? 

Hubert.  'T  is  not  an  hour  since  I  left  him  well; 
I  honour'd  him,  I  lov'd  him,  and  will  weep 
My  date  of  life  out  for  his  sweet  life's  loss. 

Salisbury.  Trust  not  those  cunning  waters  of  his  eyes, 
For  villany  is  not  without  such  rheum  ; 
And  he,  long  traded  in  it,  makes  it  seem 
Like  rivers  of  remorse  and  innocency.  "o 

Away  with  me,  all  you  whose  souls  abhor 
The  uncleanly  savours  of  a  slaughter-house  ; 
For  I  am  stifled  with  this  smell  of  sin. 

Bigot.  Away  toward  Bury,  to  the  Dauphin  there  ! 

Pembroke.  There  tell  the  king  he  may  inquire  us  out. 

\Exeunt  Lords. 

Bastard.   Here  's  a  good  world! — Knew  you  of  this  fair 
work  ? 
Beyond  the  infinite  and  boundless  reach 
Of  mercy,  if  thou  didst  this  deed  of  death, 
Art  thou  damn'd,  Hubert. 

Hubert.  Do  but  hear  me,  sir. 

Bastard.  Ha !  I  '11  tell  thee  what ;  120 

Thou  'rt  damn'd  as  black — nay,  nothing  is  so  black; 
Thou  art  more  deep  damn'd  than  Prince  Lucifer : 
There  is  not  yet  so  ugly  a  fiend  of  hell 
As  thou  shalt  be,  if  thou  didst  kill  this  child. 

Hubert.  Upon  my  soul — 

Bastard.  If  thou  didst  but  consent 

To  this  most  cruel  act,  do  but  despair ; 
And  if  thou  want'st  a  cord,  the  smallest  thread 
That  ever  spider  twisted  from  her  womb 


no  KING  JOHN. 

Will  serve  to  strangle  thee  ;  a  rush  will  be  a  beam 

'l"o  hang  thee  on;  orwouldst  thou  drown  thyself,  130 

Put  but  a  little  water  in  a  spoon, 

And  it  shall  be  as  all  tlig  ocean, 

Enough  to  stifle  such  a  villain  up. 

I  do  suspect  thee  very  grievously. 

Hubert.   If  I  in  act,  consent,  or  sin  of  thought, 
Be  guilty  of  the  stealing  that  sweet  breath 
Which  was  enibounded  in  this  beauteous  clay, 
Let  hell  want  pains  enough  to  torture  me ! 
I  left  him  well. 

Bastard.  Go,  bear  him  in  thine  arms. 

I  am  amaz'd,  methinks,  and  lose  my  way  140 

Among  the  thorns  and  dangers  of  this  world. 
How  easy  dost  thou  take  all  England  up  1 
From  forth  this  morsel  of  dead  royalty, 
The  life,  the  right,  and  truth  of  all  this  realm 
Is  fled  to  heaven  ;  and  England  now  is  left 
To  tug  and  scamble  and  to  part  by  the  teeth 
The  unowed  interest  of  proud-swelling  state. 
Now  for  the  bare-pick'd  bone  of  majesty 
Doth  dogged  war  bristle  his. angry  crest, 
And  snarleth  in  the  gentle  eyes  of  peace  :  150 

Now  powers  from  home  and  discontents  at  home 
Meet  in  one  line;  and  vast  confusion  waits, 
As  doth  a  raven  on  a  sick-fall'n  beast, 
The  imminent  decay  of  wrested  pomp. 
Now  happy  he  whose  cloak  and  cincture  can 
Hold  out  this  tempest. — Bear  away  that  child 
And  follow  me  with  speed;  I  '11  to  the  king. 
A  thousand  businesses  are  brief  in  hand, 
And  heaven  itself  doth  frown  upon  the  land.  \Exeunt. 


Upon  the  altar  at  St.  Edmundsbury  (v.  4.  18). 


ACT   V. 

Scene  I.     King  JoJui's  Palace. 
Enter  King  John,  Pandulph,  atid  Attendants. 

King  yohn.  Thus  have  I  yielded  up  into  your  hand 
The  circle  of  my  glory.  \Giving  the  crown. 


112  KING  JOHN. 

Pandulph.  Take  again 

From  this  my  hand,  as  holding  of  the  pope 
Your  sovereign  greatness  and  authority. 

King  John.    Now   keep  your  holy  word;    go  meet  the 
French, 
And  from  his  holiness  use  all  your  power 
To  stop  their  marches  fore  we  are  inflam'd. 
Our  discontented  counties  do  revolt; 
Our  people  quarrel  with  obedience, 

Swearing  allegiance  and  the  love  of  soul  lo 

To  stranger  blood,  to  foreign  royalty. 
This  inundation  of  mistemper'd  humour 
Rests  by  you  only  to  be  qualitied  : 
Then  pause  not ;  for  the  present  time  's  so  sick, 
That  present  medicine  must  be  minister'd, 
Or  overthrow  incurable  ensues. 

PaJidulph.  It  was  my  breath  that  blew  this  tempest  up, 
Upon  your  stubborn  usage  of  the  pope; 
But  since  you  are  a  gentle  convertite. 

My  tongue  shall  hush  again  this  storm  of  war,  20 

And  make  fair  weather  in  your  blustering  land. 
On  this  Ascension-day,  remember  well, 
Upon  your  oath  of  service  to  the  pope. 
Go  I  to  make  the  French  lay  down  their  arms.  \Exit. 

King  yohi.   Is  this  Ascension-day  }     Did  not  the  prophet 
Say  that  before  Ascension-day  at  noon 
My  crown  I  should  give  off.'     Even  so  I  have : 
I  did  suppose  it  should  be  on  constraint; 
But,  heaven  be  thank'd,  it  is  but  voluntary. 

Enter  the  Bastard. 

Bastard.  All  Kent  hath  yielded;  nothing  there  holds  out 
But  Dover  castle  :  London  hath  receiv'd,  3t 

Like  a  kind  host,  the  Dauphin  and  his  powers. 
Vour  nobles  will  not  hear  you,  but  are  gone 


ACT  V.    SCENE  I.  113 

To  offer  service  to  your  enemy, 

And  wild  amazement  hurries  up  and  down 

The  little  number  of  your  doubtful  friends. 

King  John.  Would  not  my  lords  return  to  me  again. 
After  they  heard  young  Arthur  was  alive  ? 

Bastard.  They  found  him  dead  and  cast  into  the  streets, 
An  empty  casket,  where  the  jewel  of  life  4° 

By  some  damn'd  hand  was  robb'd  and  ta'en  away. 

King  John.  That  villain  Hubert  told  me  he  did  live. 

Bastard.  So,  on  my  soul,  he  did,  for  aught  he  knew. 
But  wherefore  do  you  droop  .''  why  look  you  sad  1 
Be  great  in  act,  as  you  have  been  in  thought; 
Let  not  the  world  see  fear  and  sad  distrust 
Govern  the  motion  of  a  kingly  eye. 
Be  stirring  as  the  time  ;  be  fire  with  fire  ; 
Threaten  the  threatener,  and  outface  the  brow 
Of  bragging  horror  :  so  shall  inferior  eyes,  so 

That  borrow  their  behaviours  from  the  great, 
Grow  great  by  your  example  and  put  on 
The  dauntless  spirit  of  resolution. 
Away,  and  glister  like  the  god  of  war. 
When  he  intendeth  to  become  the  field  ; 
Show  boldness  and  aspiring  confidence. 
What,  shall  they  seek  the  lion  in  his  den, 
And  fright  him  there?  and  make  him  tremble  there? 
O,  let  it  not  be  said ;  forage,  and  run 

To  meet  displeasure  farther  from  the  doors,  60 

And  grapple  with  him  ere  he  comes  so  nigh. 

King  John.  The  legate  of  the  pope  hath  been  with  me. 
And  I  have  made  a  happy  peace  with  him  ; 
And  he  hath  promis'd  to  dismiss  the  powers 
Led  by  the  Dauphin. 

Bastard.  O  inglorious  league  ! 

Shall  we,  upon  the  footing  of  our  land. 
Send  fair-play  orders  and  make  compromise, 

H 


114  KING  JOHN. 

Insinuation,  parley,  and  base  truce 

To  arms  invasive  ?  shall  a  beardless  boy, 

A  cocker'd  silken  wanton,  brave  our  fields,  ;• 

And  flesh  his  spirit  in  a  warlike  soil, 

Mocking  the  air  with  colours  idly  spread. 

And  find  no  check  ?     Let  us,  my  liege,  to  arms  : 

Perchance  the  cardinal  cannot  make  your  peace; 

Or  :f  he  do,  let  it  at  least  be  said 

They  saw  we  had  a  purpose  of  defence. 

King  'John.  Have  thou  the  ordering  of  this  present  time. 

Bastard.  Away,  then,  with  good  courage  !  yet,  I  know. 
Our  party  may  well  meet  a  prouder  foe.  \Exeiint. 

Scene  II.     TJie  Dauphin's  Camp  at  St.  Edmundsbury. 

Enter^  in  arms,  Lewis,  Salisbury,  Melun,  Pembroke,  Bigot, 

and  Soldiers. 

Lewis.  My  Lord  Melun,  let  this  be  copied  out, 
And  keep  it  safe  for  our  remembrance. 
Return  the  precedent  to  these  lords  again  ; 
That,  having  our  fair  order  written  down. 
Both  they  and  we,  perusing  o'er  these  notes, 
May  know  wherefore  we  took  the  sacrament, 
And  keep  our  faiths  firm  and  inviolable. 

Salisbury.  Upon  our  sides  it  never  shall  be  broken. 
And,  noble  Dauphin,  albeit  we  swear 

A  voluntary  zeal  and  an  unurg'd  faith  lo 

To  your  proceedings,  yet,  believe  me,  prince, 
I  am  not  glad  that  such  a  sore  of  time 
Should  seek  a  plaster  by  contemn'd  revolt, 
And  heal  the  inveterate  canker  of  one  wound 
By  making  many.     O,  it  grieves  my  soul, 
That  I  must  draw  this  metal  from  my  side 
To  be  a  widow-maker  !  O,  and  there 
Where  honourable  rescue  and  defence 


ACT  V.    SCENE  II. 


1^5 


Cries  out  upon  the  name  of  Salisbury  ! 

But  such  is  the  infection  of  the  time,  20 

That,  for  the  health  and  physic  of  our  right, 

We  cannot  deal  but  with  the  very  hand 

Of  stern  injustice  and  confused  wrong. — 

And  is  't  not  pity,  O  my  grieved  friends. 

That  we,  the  sons  and  children  of  this  isle, 

Were  born  to  see  so  sad  an  hour  as  this  ; 

Wherein  we  step  after  a  stranger  march 

Upon  her  gentle  bosom,  and  fill  up 

Her  enemies'  ranks, — I  must  withdraw  and  weep 

Upon  the  spot  of  this  enforced  cause, —  30 

To  grace  the  gentry  of  a  land  remote, 

And  follow  unacquainted  colours  here? 

What,  here?     O  nation,  that  thou  couldst  remove  \ 

That  Neptune's  arms,  who  clippeth  thee  about, 

Would  bear  thee  from  the  knowledge  of  thyself, 

And  grapple  thee  unto  a  pagan  shore  ; 

Where  these  two  Christian  armies  might  combine 

The  blood  of  malice  in  a  vein  of  league, 

And  not  to  spend  it  so  unneighbourly  ! 

Leufis.  A  noble  temper  dost  thou  show  in  this;  40 

And  great  affections  wrestling  in  thy  bosom 
Doth  make  an  earthquake  of  nobility. 
O,  what  a  noble  combat  hast  thou  fought 
Between  compulsion  and  a  brave  respect ! 
Let  me  wipe  off  this  honourable  dew. 
That  silverly  doth  progress  on  thy  cheeks. 
My  heart  hath  melted  at  a  lady's  tears, 
Being  an  ordinary  inundation  ; 
But  this  effusion  of  such  manly  drops, 

This  shower,  blown  up  by  tempest  of  the  soul,  s^ 

Startles  mine  eyes,  and  makes  me  more  amaz'd 
Than  had  I  seen  the  vaulty  top  of  heaven 
Figur'd  quite  o'er  with  burning  meteors. 


ii6  KING  JOHN. 

Lift  up  thy  brow,  renowned  Salisbury, 

And  with  a  great  heart  heave  away  this  storm  ; 

Commend  these  waters  to  those  baby  eyes 

That  never  saw  the  giant  world  enrag'd, 

Nor  met  with  fortune  other  than  at  feasts, 

Full  of  warm  blood,  of  mirth,  of  gossiping. 

Come,  come  ■  for  thou  shalt  thrust  thy  hand  as  deep  60 

Into  the  purse  of  rich  prosperity 

As  Lewis  himself: — so,  nobles,  shall  you  all, 

That  knit  your  sinews  to  the  strength  of  mine. — 

And  even  there,  methinks,  an  angel  spake; 

Enter  Pandulph. 

Look,  where  the  holy  legate  comes  apace, 
To  give  us  warrant  from  the  hand  of  heaven, 
And  on  our  actions  set  the  name  of  right 
With  holy  breath. 

Pandulph.  Hail,  noble  prince  of  France  1 

The  next  is  this  :  King  John  hath  reconcil'd 
Himself  to  Rome  ;  his  spirit  is  con:>e  in,  70 

That  so  stood  out  against  the  holy  church. 
The  great  metropolis  and  see  of  Rome. 
Therefore  thy  threatening  colours  now  wind  up, 
And  tame  the  savage  spirit  of  wild  war, 
That,  like  a  lion  foster'd  up  at  hand, 
It  may  lie  gently  at  the  foot  of  peace. 
And  be  no  further  harmful  than  in  show. 

Lewis.  Your  grace  shall  pardon  me,  I  will  not  back; 
I  am  too  high-born  to  be  propertied, 

To  be  a  secondary  at  control,  80 

Or  useful  serving-man  and  instrument. 
To  any  sovereign  state  throughout  the  world. 
Your  breath  first  kindled  the  dead  coal  of  wars 
Between  this  chastis'd  kingdom  and  myself. 
And  brought  in  matter  that  should  feed  this  fire ; 


ACT  V.     SCENE  II.  117 

And  now  't  is  far  too  huge  to  be  blown  out 

With  that  same  weak  wind  which  enkindled  it. 

You  taught  me  how  to  know  the  face  of  right, 

Acquainted  me  with  interest  to  this  land, 

Yea,  thrust  this  enterprise  into  my  heart ;  9° 

And  come  ye  now  to  tell  me  John  hath  made 

His  peace  with  Rome?     What  is  that  peace  to  me? 

I,  by  the  honour  of  my  marriage-bed, 

After  young  Arthur,  claim  this  land  for  mine  ; 

And,  now  it  is  half-conquer'd,  must  I  back 

Because  that  John  hath  made  his  peace  with  Rome  ? 

Am  I  Rome's  slave  ?     What  penny  hath  Rome  borne. 

What  men  provided,  what  munition  sent. 

To  underprop  this  action  ?     Is  't  not  I 

That  undergo  this  charge  ?  who  else  but  I,  100 

And  such  as  to  my  claim  are  liable. 

Sweat  in  this  business  and  maintain  this  war? 

Have  I  not  heard  these  islanders  shout  out 

'Vive  le  roil'  as  I  have  bank'd  their  towns? 

Have  I  not  here  the  best  cards  for  the  game, 

To  win  this  easy  match  play'd  for  a  crown  ? 

And  shall  I  now  give  o'er  the  yielded  set? 

No,  no,  on  my  soul,  it  never  shall  be  said. 

PaJidulph.  You  look  but  on  the  outside  of  this  work. 

Lezvis.  Outside  or  inside,  I  will  not  return  no 

Till  my  attempt  so  much  be  glorified 
As  to  my  ample  hope  was  promised 
Before  I  drew  this  gallant  head  of  war, 
And  cuU'd  these  fiery  spirits  from  the  world, 
To  outlook  conquest  and  to  win  renown 
Even  in  the  jaws  of  danger  and  of  death. — 

[Trumpet  sounds. 
What  lusty  trumpet  thus  doth  summon  us? 


Ii8  KING  JOHN. 

Enter  the  Bastard,  attended. 

Bastard.  According  to  the  fair  play  of  the  world, 
Let  me  have  audience ;  I  am  sent  to  speak. — 
My  holy  lord  of  Milan,  from  the  king  120 

I  come,  to  learn  how  you  have  dealt  for  him  ; 
And,  as  you  answer,  I  do  know  the  scope 
And  warrant  limited  unto  my  tongue. 

Pandidph.  The  Dauphin  is  too  wilful-opposite, 
And  will  not  temporize  with  my  entreaties; 
He  flatly  says  he  '11  not  lay  down  his  arms. 

Bastard.  By  all  the  blood  that  ever  fury  breath'd, 
The  youth  says  well.     Now  hear  our  English  king ; 
For  thus  his  royalty  doth  speak  in  me. 

He  is  prepar'd,  and  reason  too  he  should  :  130 

This  apish  and  unmannerly  approach. 
This  harness'd  masque  and  unadvised  revel, 
This  unhair'd  sauciness  and  boyish  troops, 
The  king  doth  smile  at;  and  is  well  prepar'd 
To  whip  this  dwarfish  war,  these  pigmy  arms, 
From  out  the  circle  of  his  territories. 
That  hand  which  had  the  strength,  even  at  your  door. 
To  cudgel  you  and  make  you  take  the  hatch, 
To  dive  like  buckets  in  concealed  wells, 
To  crouch  in  litter  of  your  stable  planks,  140 

To  lie  like  pawns  lock'd  up  in  chests  and  trunks. 
To  hug  with  swine,  to  seek  sweet  safety  out 
In  vaults  and  prisons,  and  to  thrill  and  shake 
Even  at  the  crying  of  your  nation's  crow. 
Thinking  his  voice  an  armed  Englishman, — 
Shall  that  victorious  hand  be  feebled  here, 
That  in  your  chambers  gave  you  chastisement? 
No  !  know  the  gallant  monarch  is  in  arms, 
And  like  an  eagle  o'er  his  aery  towers. 
To  souse  annoyance  that  comes  near  his  nest. —  150 


ACT  V.     SCENE  II.  II9 

And  you  degenerate,  you  ingrate  revolts, 
You  bloody  Neroes,  ripping  up  the  womb 
Of  your  dear  mother  England,  blush  for  shame; 
For  your  own  ladies  and  pale-visag'd  maids 
Like  Amazons  come  tripping  after  drums, 
Their  thimbles  into  armed  gauntlets  change, 
Their  needles  to  lances,  and  their  gentle  hearts 
To  fierce  and  bloody  inclination. 

Lewis.  There  end  thy  brave,  and  turn  thy  face  in  peace  ; 
We  srant  thou  canst  outscold  us.     Fare  thee  well ;  160 

We  hoid  our  time  too  precious  to  be  spent 
With  such  a  brabbler, 

Pandidph.  Give  me  leave  to  speak. 

Bastard.  No,  I  will  speak. 

Lewis.  We  will  attend  to  neither. 

Strike  up  the  drums  ;  and  let  the  tongue  of  war 
Plead  for  our  interest  and  our  being  here. 

Bastard.   Indeed,  your  drums,  being  beaten,  will  cry  out ; 
And  so  shall  you,  being  beaten.     Do  but  start 
An  echo  with  the  clamour  of  thy  drum. 
And  even  at  hand  a  drum  is  ready  brac'd 
That  snail  reverberate  all  as  loud  as  thine  ;  170 

Sound  but  another,  and  another  shall 
As  loud  as  thine  rattle  the  welkin's  ear 
And  mock  the  deep-mouth'd  thunder  :  for  at  hand, 
Not  trusting  to  this  halting  legate  here. 
Whom  he  hath  us'd  rather  for  sport  than  need, 
Is  warlike  John  ;  and  in  his  forehead  sits 
A  bare-ribb'd  death,  whose  office  is  this  day 
To  feast  upon  whole  thousands  of  the  French. 

Lewis.   Strike  up  our  drums,  to  find  this  danger  out. 

Bastard.  And  thou  shalt  find  it,  Dauphin,  do  not  doubt. 

[^Exeufit. 


I20  KING  JOHN. 


Scene  III.     The  Field  of  Battle. 
Alarums.     Enter  King  John  and  Hubert. 

King  JoJin.   How  goes  the  day  with  us  ?     O,  tell  me,  Hu- 
bert. 
Hjihert.  Badly,  I  fear.     How  fares  your  majesty  ? 
King  jfohn.  This  fever,  that  hath  troubled  me  so  long, 
Lies  heavy  on  me  ;  O,  my  heart  is  sick  ! 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Messenger.  My  lord,  your  valiant  kinsman,  Faulconbridge, 
Desires  your  majesty  to  leave  the  field 
And  send  him  word  by  me  which  way  you  go. 

King  jfolin.   Tell   him,  toward   Swinstead,  to  the   abbey 
there. 

Messenger.  Be  of  good  comfort ;  for  the  great  supply 
That  was  expected  by  the  Dauphin  here,  lo 

Are  wrack'd  three  nights  ago  on  Goodwin  Sands. 
This  news  was  brought  to  Richard  but  even  now; 
The  French  fight  coldly,  and  retire  themselves. 

King  jfohn.  Ay  me!  this  tyrant  fever  burns  me  up, 
And  will  not  let  me  welcome  this  good  news. — 
Set  on  toward  Swinstead  :  to  my  litter  straight ; 
Weakness  possesseth  me,  and  I  am  faint.  \Exeiint. 

Scene  IV.     Another  Part  of  the  Field. 
Enter  Salisbury,  Pembroke,  a?id  Bigot. 

Salisbury.   I  did  not  think  the  king  so  stor'd  with  friends. 

Pembroke.  Up  once  again  ;  put  spirit  in  the  French  : 
If  they  miscarry,  we  miscarry  too. 

Salisbury.  That  misbegotten  devil,  Faulconbridge, 
In  spite  of  spite,  alone  upholds  the  day. 

Pembroke.  They  say  King  John  sore  sick  hath  left  the  field. 


ACT  V.    SCENE  IV.  121 

Enter  Melun,  wounded. 

Melun.  Lead  me  to  the  revolts  of  England  here. 

Salisbury.  When  we  were  happy  we  had  other  names.. 

Pemh-oke.  It  is  the  Count  Melun. 

Salisbury.  Wounded  to  death. 

Melun.  Fly,  noble  English,  you  are  bought  and  sold  ;      .0 
Unthread  the  rude  eye  of  rebellion. 
And  welcome  home  again  discarded  faith. 
Seek  out  King  John  and  fall  before  his  feet ; 
For  if  the  French  be  lords  of  this  loud  day, 
He  means  to  recompense  the  pains  you  take 
By  cutting  off  your  heads.     Thus  hath  he  sworn 
And  I  with  him,  and  many  moe  with  me, 
Upon  the  altar  at  Saint  Edmundsbury  ; 
Even  on  that  altar  where  we  swore  to  you 
Dear  amity  and  everlasting  love.  20 

Salisbury.  May  this  be  possible?  may  this  be  true  ? 

Melun.  Have  I  not  hideous  death  within  my  view, 
Retaining  but  a  quantity  of  life. 
Which  bleeds  away,  even  as  a  form  of  wax 
Resolveth  from  his  figure  'gainst  the  fire  ? 
What  in  the  world  should  make  me  now  deceive, 
Since  I  must  lose  the  use  of  all  deceit? 
Why  should  I  then  be  false,  since  it  is  true 
That  I  must  die  here  and  live  hence  by  truth  ? 
I  say  again,  if  Lewis  do  win  the  day,  3° 

He  is  forsworn,  if  e'er  those  eyes  of  yours 
Behold  another  day  break  in  the  east ; 
But  even  this  night,  whose  black  contagious  breath 
Already  smokes  about  the  burning  crest 
Of  the  old,  feeble,  and  day-wearied  sun, 
Even  this  ill  night,  your  breathing  shall  expire, 
Paying  the  fine  of  rated  treachery 
Even  with  a  treacherous  fine  of  all  your  lives, 


122  KING  JOHN. 

If  Lewis  by  your  assistance  win  the  day. 

Commend  me  to  one  Hubert  with  your  king;  40 

The  love  of  him,  and  this  respect  besides, 

For  that  my  grandsire  was  an  Englishman, 

Awakes  my  conscience  to  confess  all  this. 

In  lieu  whereof,  I  pray  you,  bear  me  hence 

From  forth  the  noise  and  rumour  of  the  field, 

Where  I  may  think  the  remnant  of  my  thoughts 

In  peace,  and  part  this  body  and  my  soul 

AVith  contemplation  and  devout  desires. 

Salisbury.  We  do  believe  thee  ;  and  beshrew  my  soul 
But  I  do  love  the  favour  and  the  form  5° 

Of  this  most  fair  occasion,  by  the  which 
We  will  untread  the  steps  of  damned  flight, 
And  like  a  bated  and  retired  flood, 
Leaving  our  rankness  and  irregular  course. 
Stoop  low  within  those  bounds  we  have  o'erlook'd, 
And  calmly  run  on  in  obedience 
Even  to  our  ocean,  to  our  great  King  John. 
My  arm  shall  give  thee  help  to  bear  thee  hence. 
For  I  do  see  the  cruel  pangs  of  death 

Right  in  thine  eye. — Away,  my  friends  !     New  flight,  60 

And  happy  newness,  that  intends  old  right. 

\Exetint,  leading  off  Melun. 

Scene  V.     Th&  French  Camp. 
Eftter  Lewis  and  his  train. 

Lewis.  The  sun  of  heaven  methought  was  loath  to  set. 
But  stay'd  and  made  the  western  welkin  blush, 
When  English  measure  backward  their  own  ground 
In  faint  retire.     O,  bravely  came  we  off. 
When  with  a  volley  of  our  needless  shot. 
After  such  bloody  toil  we  bid  good  night. 
And  wound  our  tottering  colours  clearly  up, 
Last  in  the  field,  and  almost  lords  of  it ! 


ACT  V.     SCENE   VI.  123 


Enter  a  Messenger. 

Messenger.  Where  is  my  prince,  the  Dauphin  ? 

Lewis.  Here  ;  what  news  ? 

Messenger.  The  Count  Meliin  is  slain  ;  the  English  lords 
By  his  persuasion  are  again  fall'n  off,  n 

And  your  supply,  which  you  have  wish'd  so  long, 
Are  cast  away  and  sunk  on  Goodwin  Sands. 

Lewis.  Ah,  foul  shrewd  news  !  beshrew  thy  very  heart ! 
I  did  not  think  to  be  so  sad  to-night 
As  this  hath  made  me. — Who  was  he  that  said 
King  John  did  fly  an  hour  or  two  before 
The  stumbling  night  did  part  our  weary  powers? 

Messenger.  Whoever  spoke  it,  it  is  true,  my  lord.  ig 

Lewis.  Well  ;  keep  good  quarter  and  good  care  to-night. 
The  day  shall  not  be  up  so  soon  as  I, 
To  try  the  fair  adventure  of  to-morrow.  [^Exeinit. 

Scene  VI.     An   Open  Place  in  the  NeighhorJwod  of  Sw in- 
stead Abbey. 

Enter  the  Bastard  and  Hubert,  severally. 

Hubert.    Who  's   there?   speak,  ho!    speak  quickly,  or  I 
shoot. 

Bastard.  A  friend. — What  art  thou  ? 

Hubert.  Of  the  part  of  England. 

Bastard.  Whither  dost  thou  go? 

Hubert.  What 's  that  to  thee  ?  why  may  not  I  demand 
Of  thine  affairs,  as  well  as  thou  of  mine  ? 

Bastard.  Hubert,  I  think? 

Hubert.  Thou  hast  a  perfect  thought  ; 

I  will  upon  all  hazards  well  believe 
Thou  art  my  friend,  that  know'st  my  tongue  so  well. 
Who  art  thou  ? 

Bastard.  Who  thou  wilt ;  and  if  thou  please, 


124  ^^^^  JOHN. 

Thou  niayst  befriend  me  so  much  as  to  think  lo 

I  come  one  way  of  the  Plantagenets. 

Hubert.  Unkind  remembrance  !  thou  and  eyeless  night 
Have  done  me  shame. — Brave  soldier,  pardon  me, 
That  any  accent  breaking  from  thy  tongue 
Should  scape  the  true  acquaintance  of  mine  ear. 

Bastard.    Come,   come  ;    sans    compliment,    what    news 
abroad  ? 

Hubert.  Why,  here  walk  I  in  the  black  brow  of  night. 
To  find  you  out. 

Bastard.  Brief,  then  ;  and  what 's  the  news? 

Hubert.  O,  my  sweet  sir,  news  fitting  to  the  night. 
Black,  fearful,  comfortless,  and  horrible.  20 

Bastard.   Show  me  the  very  wound  of  this  ill  news ; 
I  am  no  woman,  I  'II  not  swoon  at  it. 

Hubert.  The  king,  I  fear,  is  poison'd  by  a  monk; 
I  left  him  almost  speechless,  and  broke  out 
To  acquaint  you  with  this  evil,  that  you  might 
The  better  arm  you  to  the  sudden  time, 
Than  if  you  had  at  leisure  known  of  this. 

Basta?d.  How  did  he  take  it  ?  who  did  taste  to  him  ? 

Hubert.  A  monk,  I  tell  you  ;  a  resolved  villain, 
Whose  bowels  suddenly  burst  out :  the  king  30 

Yet  speaks,  and  peradventure  may  recover. 

Bastard.  Who  didst  thou  leave  to  tend  his  majesty  ? 

Hubert.  Why,  know  you  not?  the  lords  are  all  come  back, 
And  brought  Prince  Henry  in  their  company ; 
At  whose  request  the  king  hath  pardon'd  them, 
And  they  are  all  about  his  majesty. 

Bastard.  Withhold  thine  indignation,  mighty  heaven, 
And  tempt  us  not  to  bear  above  our  power ! — 
I  '11  tell  thee,  Hubert,  half  my  power  this  night. 
Passing  these  flats,  are  taken  by  the  tide,  <8 

'J'hese  Lincoln  Washes  have  devoured  them ; 
Myself,  well  mounted,  hardly  have  escap'd. 


ACT  V.     SCENE  VII.  12 


0 


Away  before  :  conduct  me  to  the  king  ; 

I  doubt  he  will  be  dead  or  ere  I  come.  {^Exeunt. 

Scene  VII.     The  Orchard  of  Swimtead  Abbey. 
Enter  Prince  Henry,  Salisbury,  a7id  Bigot. 

Prince  Henry.   It  is  too  late  ;  the  life  of  all  his  blood 
Is  touch'd  corruptibly,  and  his  pure  brain, 
Which  some  suppose  the  soul's  frail  dwelling-house. 
Doth  by  the  idle  comments  that  it  makes 
Foretell  the  ending  of  mortality. 

Etiter  Pembroke. 

Pembroke.  His   highness  yet  doth   speak,  and  holds  be- 
lief 
That,  being  brought  into  the  open  air, 
It  would  allay  the  burning  quality 
Of  that  fell  poison  which  assaileth  him.  9 

Prince  Henry.  Let  him  be  brought  into  the  orchard  here. — 
Doth  he  still  rage  ?  {.Exit  Bigot. 

Pembroke.  He  is  more  patient 

Than  when  you  left  him  ;  even  now  he  sung. 

Pri?ice  Henry.  O  vanity  of  sickness  !  fierce  extremes 
In  their  continuance  will  not  feel  themselves. 
Death,  having  prey'd  upon  the  outward  parts, 
Leaves  them  insensible,  and  his  siege  is  now 
Against  the  mind,  the  which  he  pricks  and  wounds 
With  many  legions  of  strange  fantasies, 
Which,  in  their  throng  and  press  to  that  last  hold. 
Confound    themselves.      'T    is   strange    that   death    should 


sing. 


I  am  the  cygnet  to  this  pale  faint  swan. 
Who  chants  a  doleful  hymn  to  his  own  death, 
And  from  the  organ-pipe  of  frailty  sings 
His  soul  and  body  to  their  lasting  rest. 


126  KING  JOHN. 

Salisbury.  Be  of  good  comfort,  prince ;  for  you  are  born 
To  set  a  form  upon  that  indigest 
Which  he  hath  left  so  shapeless  and  so  rude. 

Enter  Attendants,  and  Bigot,  carrying  King  John   in  a 

chair. 

King  yohn.  Ay,  marry,  now  my  soul  hath  elbow-room; 
It  would  not  out  at  windows  nor  at  doors. 
There  is  so  hot  a  summer  in  my  bosom,  30 

That  all  my  bowels  crumble  up  to  dust: 
I  am  a  scribbled  form,  drawn  with  a  pen 
Upon  a  parchment,  and  against  this  fire 
Do  I  shrink  up. 

Prince  Henry.     How  fares  your  majesty? 

Ki7ig  John.  Poison'd, — ill  fare — dead,  forsook,  cast  off; 
And  none  of  you  will  bid  the  winter  come 
To  thrust  his  icy  fingers  in  my  maw. 
Nor  let  my  kingdom's  rivers  take  their  course 
Through  my  burn'd  bosom,  nor  entreat  the  north 
To  make  his  bleak  winds  kiss  my  parched  lips  40 

And  comfort  me  with  cold.     I  do  not  ask  you  much : 
I  beg  cold  comfort;  and  you  are  so  strait 
And  so  ingrateful,  you  deny  me  that. 

Prince  Henry.  O  that  there  were  some  virtue  in  my  tears, 
That  might  relieve  you  ! 

King  John.  The  salt  in  them  is  hot. 

Within  me  is  a  hell ;  and  there  the  poison 
Is  as  a  fiend  confin'd  to  tyrannize 
On  unreprievable  condemned  blood. 

Enter  the  Bastard. 

Bastard.  O,  I  am  scalded  with  my  violent  motion 
And  spleen  of  speed  to  see  your  majesty  !  so 

King  John.  O  cousin,  thou  art  come  to  set  mine  eye. 
The  tackle  of  my  heart  is  crack'd  and  burn'd, 


ACT  V.     SCENE    VII. 


127 


And  all  the  shrouds  wherewith  my  life  should  sail 
Are  turned  to  one  thread,  one  little  hair  ; 
My  heart  hath  one  poor  string  to  stay  it  by, 
Which  holds  but  till  thy  news  be  uttered. 
And  then  all  this  thou  seest  is  but  a  clod 
And  module  of  confounded  royalty. 

Bastard.  The  Dauphin  is  preparing  hitherward, 
Where  heaven  He  knows  how  we  shall  answer  him ;  60 

For  in  a  night  the  best  part  of  my  power, 
As  I  upon  advantage  did  remove, 
Were  in  the  Washes  all  unwarily 
Devoured  by  the  unexpected  flood.  \The  king  dies. 

Salisbury.  You  breathe  these  dead  news  in  as  dead  an 
ear. — 
My  liege  !  my  lord ! — But  now  a  king,  now  thus. 

Prince  Henry.   Even  so  must  I  run  on,  and  even  so  stop. 
What  surety  of  the  world,  what  hope,  what  stay. 
When  this  was  now  a  king,  and  now  is  clay  ? 

Bastard.  Art  thou  gone  so  ?     I  do  but  stay  behind  7° 

To  do  the  office  for  thee  of  revenge. 
And  then  my  soul  shall  wait  on  thee  to  heaven. 
As  it  on  earth  hath  been  thy  servant  still. — 
Now,  now,  you  stars  that  move  in  your  right  spheres. 
Where  be  your  powers  .^  show  now  your  mended  faiths, 
And  instantly  return  with  me  again. 
To  push  destruction  and  perpetual  shame 
Out  of  the  weak  door  of  our  fainting  land. 
Straight  let  us  seek,  or  straight  we  shall  be  sought ; 
The  Dauphin  rages  at  our  very  heels.  80 

Salisbury.  It  seems  you  know  not,  then,  so  much  as  we. 
The  Cardinal  Pandulph  is  within  at  rest, 
Who  half  an  hour  since  came  from  the  Dauphin, 
And  brings  from  him  such  offers  of  our  peace 
As  we  with  honour  and  respect  may  take. 
With  purpose  presently  to  leave  this  war. 


128  KING  JOHN. 

Bastard.  He  will  the  rathe.r  do  it  when  he  sees 
Ourselves  well  sinewed  to  our  defence. 

Salisbury.  Nay,  it  is  in  a  manner  done  already  : 
For  many  carriages  he  hath  dispatch'd  90 

To  the  sea-side,  and  put  his  cause  and  quarrel 
To  the  disposing  of  the  cardinal ; 
With  whom  yourself,  myself,  and  other  lords, 
If  you  think  meet,  this  afternoon  will  post 
To  consummate  this  business  happily. 

Bastard.  Let  it  be  so. — And  you,  my  noble  prince, 
With  other  princes  that  may  best  be  spar'd, 
Shall  wait  upon  your  father's  funeral. 

Prince  Henry.  At  Worcester  must  his  body  be  interr'd  ; 
For  so  he  will'd  it. 

Bastard.  Thither  shall  it  then.  100 

And  happily  may  your  sweet  self  put  on 
The  lineal  state  and  glory  of  the  land  ! 
To  whom,  with  all  submission,  on  my  knee 
I  do  bequeath  my  Hiithful  services 
And  true  subjection  everlastingly. 

Salisbury.  And  the  like  tender  of  our  love  we  make, 
To  rest  without  a  spot  for  evermore. 

Prince  Henry.   I  have  a  kind  soul  that  would  give  you 
thanks, 
And  knows  not  how  to  do  it  but  with  tears. 

Bastard.  O,  let  us  pay  the  time  but  needful  woe,  no 

Since  it  hath  been  beforehand  with  our  griefs. — 
This  England  never  did,  nor  never  shall. 
Lie  at  the  proud  foot  of  a  conqueror, 
But  when  it  first  did  help  to  wound  itself. 
Now  these  her  princes  are  come  home  again. 
Come  the  three  corners  of  the  world  in  arms, 
And  we  shall  shock  them.     Nought  shall  make  us  rue, 
If  England  to  itself  do  rest  but  true.  \Exeunt. 


NOTES, 


ABBREVIATIONS  USED  IN  THE  NOTES. 

Abbott  (or  Gr.),  Abbott's  Shakespearian  Grammar  (third  edition). 
A.  S.,  Anglo-Saxon. 

A.  v.,  Authorized  Version  of  the  Bible  (1611). 

B.  and  F.,  Beaumont  and  Fletcher. 
B.  J.,  Ben  Jonson. 

Camb.  ed.,  "  Cambridge  edition"  oi  Shakespeare,  edited  by  Clark  and  Wright. 

Cf.  {confer),  compare. 

Clarke,  "Cassell's  Illustrated  Shakespeare,"  edited  by  Charles  and  Mary  Covvden 
Clarke  (London,  n.  d.). 

Coll.,  Collier  (second  edition). 

Coll.  MS.,  Manuscript  Corrections  of  Second  Folio,  edited  by  Collier. 

D.,  Dyce  (second  edition). 

Fl.,  F.  G.  Fleay's  ed.  oi King  John  (London  and  Glasgow,  1878). 

H.,  Hudson  (first  edition). 

Halliwell,  J.  O.  Halliwell  (folio  ed.  of  Shakespeare). 

Id.  (idetn),  the  same. 

K.,  Knight  (second  edition). 

Nares,  Glossary,  edited  by  Halliwell  and  Wright  (London,  1859). 

Prol.,  Prologue. 

S  ,  Shakespeare. 

Schmidt,  A.  Schmidt's  Shakespeare-Lexicon  (Berlin,  1874). 

Sr.,  Singer. 

St.,  Staunton. 

Theo.,  Theobald 

v.,  Verplanck. 

W.,  White. 

Walker,  Wm.  Sidney  Walker's  Critical  Examination  of  the  Text  of  Shakespeare 
(London,  i860). 

Warb.,  Warburton. 

Wb.,  Webster's  Dictionary  (revised  quarto  edition  of  1879). 

Wore,  Worcester's  Dictionary  (quarto  edition). 

The  abbreviations  of  the  names  of  Shakespeare's  Plays  will  be  readily  understood  ;  as 
T.  N.  for  Twelfth  Night,  Cor.  for  Coriolanns,  3  Hen.  VI.  for  The  Third  Part  of  King 
Henry  the  Sixth,  etc.  P.  P.  refers  to  The  Passiotiate  Pilgrim  ;  V.  and  A .  to  Venus 
and  Adonis  ;  L.  C.  to  Lover's  Complaint ;  and  Sonn.  to  the  Sonnets. 

When  the  abbreviation  of  the  name  of  a  play  is  followed  by  a  reference  to  page, 
Rolfe's  edition  of  the  play  is  meant. 

The  numbers  of  the  lines  (except  for  King  fohti)  are  those  of  the  "  Globe  "  ed.  or 
of  Crowell's  reprint  of  that  ed. 


NOTES. 


TOMB  OF   KING  JOHN    IN   WORCESTER   CATHEDRAL. 


ACT  I. 

Dramatis  Person.^. — We  give  these  as  in  the  Camb.  and  Globe  cds. 
The  Var.  of  1821  and  most  of  the  modern  eds.  add  sundry  historical  de- 
tails ;  as  the  fact  that  Prince  Henry  was  "afterwards  King  Henry  HI.," 
etc.  The  Earl  of  Pembroke  was  William  Mareshall  ;  the  Earl  of  Essex 
was  Geffrey  Fitz- Peter,  who  held  the  office  of  Chief  Justiciary  of  Eng- 
land ;  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  was  William  Longsword ;  and  Lord  Bigot 


132 


NOTES. 


was  Robert  Bigot,  Earl  of  Norfolk.  "  Faulconbridge  "  is  the  spelling  of 
the  folio,  followed  by  the  majority  of  the  modern  editors.  Fleay  retains 
also  the  old  forms  "Gourney"  and  "Chatillion." 

Scene  I. — Most  of  the  eds.  give  the  scene  as  "  Nort/iaf/tffoii.  A 
Room  of  State  in  the  Kmg's  Palace.^''  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  court 
was  then  held  at  Northampton ;  but  with  regard  to  the  locality  of  some 
of  the  other  scenes  we  cannot  speak  so  positively.  The  ist  scene  of  act 
iv.,  for  instance,  is  laid  by  Capell  in  "Northampton,"  by  Halliwell  in 
"  Dover,"  and  by  W.  in  "  Canterbury."  As  the  Camb.  editors  remark, 
"nothing  is  gained  by  an  attempt  to  harmonize  the  plot  with  historical 
facts  gathered  from  Holinshed  and  elsewhere,  when  it  is  plain  that  S. 
was  either  ignorant  of  them  or  indifferent  to  minute  accuracy." 

3.  In  my  behaviour.  "  In  the  character  which  I  here  assume  "  (John- 
son) ;  "  in  the  words  and  action  that  I  am  going  to  use  "  (Malone) ;  "  not 
only  in  my  words,  but  in  my  bearing  and  manner — my  assumption  of  su- 
periority to  the  'borrowed  majesty'  of  John"  (Fl.). 

4.  Borrowed.  The  folio  form,  retained  by  the  Camb.  ed.  and  W. 
Most  eds.  give  it  "  borrow'd." 

II.  Toitraitie.  The  1st  folio  has  "Torayne,"  the  later  folios  "Lo- 
rayne"  or  "Loraine."  The  old  play  has  "Torain"  in  the  correspond- 
ing passage. 

16.  Disallozv.  Used  by  S.  nowhere  else  ;  but  we  have  allow  o/'m  W. 
T.  iv.  I.  29  and  T.  N.  iv.  2.  63. 

17.  Control.  Constraint,  compulsion.  Cf.  y?/t7^ ///.  iii.  5.  84  :  "with- 
out control  "  (that  is,  restraint).     See  also  Hen.  V.  ii.  4.  96  : 

''''French  Khig.  Or  else  what  follows? 
^^ Exeter.   Bloody  constraint;  for  if  you  hide  the  crown 
Even  in  your  hearts,  there  will  he  rake  for  it." 

19.  War  for  war,  etc.     Steevens  compares  Jeroiiimo,  1588-89  : 

'''■And.  Thou  shall  pay  tribute,  Portugal,  with  blood. 
''''Bat.  Tribute  for  tribute  then;  and  foes  for  foes." 

24.  As  lightning.  Johnson  finds  fault  with  the  simile,  because  "the 
lightning  is  destructive,  and  the  thunder  innocent ;"  but  it  is  the  quick- 
ness with  which  the  \k\\xr\(![tx  follows  the  lightning  to  which  the  poet  al- 
ludes. Besides,  as  Farmer  notes,  the  thunder  was  not  then  thought  to 
be  harmless.  Cf.  Temp.  ii.  i.  204,  ii.  2.  112,  M.for  M.  ii.  2.  no  fol.,  J.  C. 
i.  3.  49,  Cymb.  iv.  2.  271,  etc. 

Of  course  the  mention  of  cannon  here  is  an  anachronism,  as  it  is  in 
Macbeth  and  Hamlet.  Gunpowder  was  not  invented  until  at  least  a  cen- 
tury later,  and  artillery  is  commonly  said  to  have  been  first  used  at  the 
battle  of  Cressy.  As  K.  remarks,  S.  "uses  terms  which  were  familiar  to 
his  audience,  to  present  a  particular  image  to  their  senses.  Had  he,  in- 
stead of  cannon,  spoken  of  the  mangonell  and  the  petraria — the  stone- 
flinging  machines  of  the  time  of  John — he  would  have  addressed  himself 
to  the  very  few  who  might  have  appreciated  his  exactness;  but  his  words 
would  have  fallen  dead  upon  the  ears  of  the  many." 

27.   Truinpct.     Trumpeter,  herald.     See  Ham.  p.  176  or  IV.  T.  \>.  16S. 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I.  133 

28.  Sullen.  Sad,  dismal.  Cf.  R.  and  J.  iv.  5.  88:  "sullen  diiges." 
See  also  Rich.  II.  p.  222. 

29.  Conduct.  Escort ;  as  in  Hen.  V.  i.  2.  297  :  "  safe  conduct,"  etc. 
This  use  of  the  word  is  still  retained  in  military  parlance. 

30.  Chatillon.     A  quadrisyllable,  like  the  "Chatillion"  of  the  folio. 
34.  Party.     Part,  side ;  as'  in  ii.  i.  361  and  iii.  i.  123  below.     See  also 

Rich.  II.  p'  195. 

37.  Manage.  Administration.  Cf.  Temp.  i.  2.  70 :  "  the  manage  of 
my  state;"  M.  of  V.  iii.  4.  25:  "The  husbandry  and  manage  of  my 
house,"  etc. 

39.  Otir  strong  possession,  etc.     See  p.  32  above. 

49.  Charge.  Cost,  expense.  See  Rich.  II.  p.  175.  The  ist  folio  has 
"expeditious,"  which  Fl.  retains,  making  it  =  " urgent,  sudden." 

50.  Your  faithful  subject,  etc.  Steevens  remarks  that  the  character  of 
the  Bastard,  adopted  from  the  old  play,  is  "compounded  of  two  distinct 
personages  :"  "  Falcasius  de  Brente  "of  Matthew  Paris's  Chronicle,  and 
the  natural  son  of  Richard  I.  "named  Philip,"  mentioned  by  Holinshed. 
Malone  suggests  tiiat  the  author  of  the  old  play  was  led  to  affix  the  name 
o{  Faulconbridge  to  this  son  of  King  Richard  by  a  passage  in  the  contin- 
uation of  Harding's  Chronicle,  i^^i,  where  he  is  called  "one  Faulcon- 
bridge,  therle  of  Kent,  his  bastarde,  a  stoute-hearted  man."  It  is  said 
that'his  mother  was  a  lady  of  Poictou,  and  that  King  Richard  bestowed 
upon  her  son  a  lordship  in  that  province.  The  old  play  gives  only  this 
slight  hint  of  the  character  which  S.  has  made  so  much  of: 

"  Next  them  a  bastard  of  the  king's  deceas'd, 
A  hardie  wild-head,  rough,  and  venturous." 

54.  Ca'ur-de-lion.     Spelt  uniformly  "Cordelion"  in  the  folios. 

62.  Put  you  o'er.     Refer  you  ;  the  only  instance  of  the  phrase  in  S. 

64.  Rude  man.  Fl.  gives  "  rude-man  "  (like  goodman,  etc.)  and  com- 
pares "  rudesby  "  in  T.  of  S.  iii.  2.  10  and  T.  N.  iv.  l.  55. 

65.  Diffidence.  Distrust,  suspicion  ;  the  only  sense  of  the  word  in  S. 
Cf.  I  Hen.  VI.  iii.  3.  10  : 

"  We  have  been  guided  by  thee  hitherto, 
And  of  thy  cunning  had  no  diffidence ;" 

and  Lear,  i.  2.  161  :  "  needless  diffidences." 

68.  A\  A  corruption  of  he,  common  in  the  language  of  the  vulgar, 
but  sometimes  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  well-bred  (Schmidt).  The  early 
eds.  print  it  without  the  apostrophe  ;  the  modern  ones  give  a'  or  \i. 

69.  Pound.  S.  uses  hoih  pound  and  pounds  for  the  plural.  See  Rich. 
II.  p.  182. 

75.  Whether.  The  folios  (except  the  4th)  have  "where,"  as  in  li.  i. 
167  below  and  not  a  few  other  passages.  \V.  prints  "whe'r,"  which  is 
another  contraction  found  in  the  old  eds.  In  134  below  the  folios  have 
"  whether,"  though  the  word  is  metrically  equivalent  to  a  monosyllable, 
as  here.     See  Gr.  466. 

78.  Fair  fall,  etc.  Good  luck  befall  the  frame  that  bore  the  pains  of 
maternity  for  me!  Cf.  V.and  .,4.472:  "Fair  fall  the  wit  that  can  so 
well  defend  her  !"     See  also  L.  L.  L.  ii.  i.  124,  125. 


J  24  'NOTES. 

82.  0  oldSh-  Robert,  father.  Perhaps  Fl.  is  right  in  omitting  the  comma 
after  Robert. 

84.  Lent.  Heath  conjectured  "sent ;"  but  cf.  A",  of  L.  17,  A.  W.  ii.  2. 
8,  Per.  prol.  24,  etc. 

85.  Trick.  "Peculiarity"  (Schmidt);  as  in  W.  T.  ii.  3.  lOO  :  "The 
trick  of  's  frown  ;"  Lear,  iv.  6.  108  :  "The  trick  of  that  voice  I  do  well 
remember,"  etc.  Some  connect  this  use  of  the  word  with  its  heraldic 
application  =  copy.  Mr.  Wilbraham,  in  his  MS.  notes  (cited  in  the  Camb. 
ed.),  gives  from  an  old  account-l)ook  :  "July  21st,  1691,  received  of  Mr. 
Cole  "for  a  trick  of  Consure's  arms,  Zs.  6J.'' 

86.  Affecteth.  Resembles  ;  a  sense  not  found  elsewhere  in  S.,  but 
somewhat  like  its  use  =  imitate,  as  in  T.  of  A.  iv.  3.  199  :  "Thou  dost  af- 
fect my  manners,"  etc. 

88.  The  large  composition,  etc.  "  This  expression  finely  brings  to  the 
eye  those  magnificent  proportions  of  manly  strength  that  characterized 
Richard  I.,  and  which  helped  to  make  him  the  heroic  ideal  of  English 
hearts"  (Clarke). 

93.  With  that  halfface.  The  early  eds.  have  "With  half  that  face;" 
corrected  by  Theo.     Some  editors  put  a  period  at  the  end  of  92. 

94.  A  halffac'd  groat.  A  silver  groat  (or  fourpence)  with  the  king's 
profile  on  it ;  first  coined  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VH.  The  groat  was  r.ot 
coined  at  all  until  the  time  of  Edward  HI.  I3ut  S.  did  not  mind  these 
little  anachronisms.  For  the  contemptuous  use  oi  half-faced,  d.  2  Hen. 
IV.m.z.  283:  "this  same  half-faced  fellow,  Shadow."  Here  there  is 
a  play  u]5on  the  word. 

100.   The  emperor.     Henry  VT. 

1 10.  Took  it,  etc.  Took  his  oath,  protested.  Cf.  i  Hen.  IV.  v.  4.  154  : 
"  I  '11  take  it  upon  my  death,  I  gave  him  this  wound  ;  Id.  ii.  4,  9 :  "  They 
take  it  already  upon  their  salvation,  that  though  I  be  but  Prince  of  Wales, 
yet  I  am  the  king  of  courtesy,"  etc.     Fl.  quotes  Lover's  Progress,  v.  3  : 

"  Upon  my  death  I  take  it,  uncompell'd. 
That  they  are  guilty." 

119.   Which  fault.     Cf.  iii.  i.  40  below  :   "  Which  harm,"  etc.     Gr.  269. 

Lies  on  the  hazards  of=\?,  risked  by  ;  a  gambling  phrase  (FL).  Cf.  M. 
for  M.  iv.  2.  166  :  "  I  '11  lay  myself  in  hazard,"  etc. 

127.  This  coiichides.  "This  is  a  decisive  argument.  As  your  father, 
if  he  liked  him,  could  not  be  forced  to  resign  him,  so,  not  liking  him,  he 
is  not  at  liberty  to  reject  him"  (Johnson).  Perhaps  it  is  simply  =  this  is 
the  conclusion. 

137.  Lord  of  thy  presence.  "  Master  of  that  fine  manly  person  inherited 
from  Cceur-de-lion  ;"  with  perhaps  the  added  idea,  as  Clarke  suggests, 
of  "  master  of  thine  own  individuality  or  identity."  Cf.  ii.  i.  367  and  377 
below.     Halliwell  quotes  Sir  Henry  Wotton's  description  of  The  Happy 

^"'^'^  •  "Lord  of  himself,  though  not  of  lands, 

And  having  nothing,  yet  hath  all." 

138.  An  if.     The  folios  have  "  And  if,"  as  often.     Gr.  loi,  105. 

139.  And  I,  etc.  The  folio  reads:  "And  I  had  his,  sir  Roberts  his 
like  him,"  etc.     The  modern  editors  arrange  it  in  as  many  different  ways 


ACT  I.     SCENE  /. 


135 


as  a  Chinese  puzzle.  The  majority  give  it,  "  And  I  had  his,  Sir  Robert 
his,  like  him."  Fleay  has  "And  I  had  his  Sir  Robert's  ;  his,  like  him  ;" 
that  is,  "  his  (my  brother's)  shape  of  Sir  Robert ;  his  (my  brother's)  ;  like 
him  (my  brother) — Philip  pointing  at  his  brother  at  the  words  his  and 
///»/."  The  reading  in  the  text  is  that  of  the  Camb.  ed.  Sir  Robert's  his 
may  perhaps  be=his,  derived  from  Sir  Robert,  or  Sir  Robert's  shape  as 
seen  in  him  ;  spoken  contemptuously,  the  repeated  his  being  treated  as 
a  noun.  Johnson  explains  "Sir  Robert  his"  as  =  Sir  Robert's,  the  his 
being  used  instead  of  the  possessive  'j,  as  in  "  Mars  his  sword  "  (Sofiit. 
55.  7),  "  Lewis  his  satisfaction  "  (Hen.  V.  i.  2.  88),  etc.  ;  but  we  doubt 
whether  that  form  of  the  possessive  was  ever  used  with  the  thing  jjos- 
sessed  "  understood,"  not  exjjressed.  Schmidt  considers  that  in  Sir 
Hoberfs  his  we  have  "  the  's  of  the  genitive  and  his  combined." 

140.  Riding-rods.     Switches. 

142.  Rose.  It  was  the  fashion  in  Elizabeth's  time  to  wear  rosettes  of 
ribbon,  and  sometimes  real  roses,  stuck  behind  the  ear.  Steevens  cites 
Marston,  B.  J.,  Davenant,  and  Burton  in  illustration  of  the  custom. 

To  understand  the  allusion  in  three-fai-things,  it  is  necessary  to  know 
that  Elizabeth  coined  pieces  of  that  value  which  had  her  head  and  the 
emblematic  rose  of  England  upon  them.  These  coins,  as  M alone  states, 
were  of  silver  and  so  thin  that  they  were  liable  to  be  cracked.  Hence 
B.  J.,  in  his  Every  Man  in  His  Humour,  says  :  "  He  values  me  at  a 
cracked  three-farthings." 

144.   To.     In  addition  to,  besides.     Gr.  185. 

146.  Face.  Fl.  reads  "  hand,"  as  being  "  necessary  for  the  rhyme,  and 
also  for  the  antithesis  io  foot,  which,  after  Shakespeare's  usual  custom,  is 
used  in  a  double  sense,  one  meaning  being  merely  glanced  at." 

147.  A^ob.  Contemptuous  for  Robert.  The  folio  prints  it  "sir  nobbe." 
Clarke  thinks  there  is  a  kind  of  pun  on  710b,  the  cant  word  for  head. 

154.  Hnto  the  death.  Though  death  be  the  consequence  ;  the  Fr.  d.  la 
mort.     Cf.  Much  Ado,  i.  3.  72,  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  146,  etc. 

161.  Arise.     Steevens's  emendation  of  the  "rise"  of  the  folios. 

162.  Plantagenct.  Originally  not  a  family  name,  but  a  nickname,  by 
which  a  grandson  of  Geffrey,  the  first  earl  of  Anjou,  was  distinguished, 
from  his  wearing  a  broom-stalk  [planta  genista)  in  his  bonnet ;  afterwards 
popularly  assigned  as  a  surname  to  the  royal  family  of  England  from 
Henry  II.  to  Richard  II.  (Malone). 

169.  Truth.  Honesty  (Johnson).  Cf.  181  below.  What  though  — 
what  of  it .'  what  matters  it  ?  Cf.  M.  W.\.  i.  286,  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  3.  31,  Heit. 
V.  ii.  1.9,  etc. 

170.  Something  about,  etc.  "/  atn,  says  the  sprightly  kx\\g\\\.,  your 
grandson,  a  little  irregularly,  but  every  man  cannot  get  what  he  wishes 
the  legal  way.  He  that  dares  not  go  about  his  designs  by  day  must  make 
his  motions  in  the  night ;  he  to  whom  the  door  is  shut  must  climb  the 
tvindow  or  leap  the  hatch.  This,  however,  shall  not  depress  me  ;  for  the 
world  never  inquires  how  any  man  got  what  he  is  known  to  possess,  but 
allows  that  to  have  is  to  have,  however  it  was  caught,  and  that  he  toho 
•wins  shot  well,  whatever  was  his  skill,  whether  the  arrow  fell  near  the 
mark  or  far  off  it  "  (Johnson).    ///  at  the  ivindo^o  and  or>er  the  hatch  were 


136 


NOTES. 


proverbial  phrases  for  illegitimacy,  as  Steeveiis  shows  by  sundry  quota- 
tions. A  hatch  is  a  half-door  (the  lower  half  of  the  door  arranged  to 
shut,  leaving  the  upper  half  open  like  a  window)  such  as  is  still  common- 
ly seen  in  English  cottages.  Cf.  v.  2.  138  below  :  "take  the  hatch  ;"  and 
Lear,  iii.  6.  76 :  "  Dogs  leap  the  hatch." 

177.  A  landless  k7iight.  Not  the  king  ("John  Safis-terre"  or  "Lack- 
land," as  he  was  called),  but  Philip. 

180.  Good  forttme  conie  to  thee,  etc.  The  thee  \?,  emphatic.  He  inti- 
mates that  he  himself  does  not  need  the  good  wish,  as,  according  to  the 
proverb,  "  bastards  are  born  lucky." 

182.  A  foot.     A  step,  uii  pas  (Johnson). 

184.  Joati.  A  peasant  girl.  Cf  L.  L.  L.  iii,  I.  207:  "  Some  men  must 
love  my  lady  and  some  Joan  ;"  Id.  v.  2.  930  :  "  While  greasy  Joan  doth 
keel  the  pot,"  etc. 

185.  Good  den.  Good  evening.  See  R.  and  J.  p.  148.  "  Faulcon- 
bridge  is  now  entertaining  himself  with  ideas  of  greatness,  suggested  by 
his  recent  knighthood.  Good  den.  Sir  Richard  he  su]iposes  to  be  the 
salutation  of  a  vassal ;  God-a-mercy,  fellow,  his  own  supercilious  reply  to 
it"  (Steevens).  God-a-mercy —  Qodi  have  mercy.  Cf.  T.ofS.'w.T,.  154, 
Ham.  iv.  5.  199,  etc. 

188.  Respective.  Regardful,  or  considerate.  Cf  M.  of  V.  v.  I.  156: 
"  You  should  have  been  respective,  and  have  kept  it ;"  R.  and  J.  iii.  i. 
128:   "Away  to  heaven,  respective  lenity,"  etc. 

189.  Conversion.  Change  of  condition;  needlessly  changed  by  Pope 
to  "  conversing." 

Yoicr  traveller.  "It  is  said  in  A.  IV.  [ii.  5.  30]  that  'a  traveller  is  a 
good  thing  after  dinner.'  In  that  age  of  newly  excited  curiosity,  one  of 
the  entertainments  at  great  tables  seems  to  have  been  the  discourse  of  a 
traveller"  (Johnson). 

190.  Toothpick.  The  use  of  a  toothpick  was  considered  a  foreign 
affectation  in  the  time  of  S.  See  W.  T.  p.  206.  For  7ness,  see  IV.  T. 
p.  157,  note  on  Lower  jn esses. 

191.  S7iffc'd.     Satisfied  ;  as  in  A.  V.  L.  ii.  7.  131  : 

"till  he  be  first  suffic'd. 
Oppress' d  with  two  weak  evils,  age  and  hunger, 
I  will  not  touch  a  bit." 

192.  L suck  my  teeth.     Not  using  a  toothpick,  like  the  traveller. 

193.  Picked.  Refined.  Cf.  L.  L.  Z.  v.  i.  14  :  "  He  is  too  picked,  too 
spruce,  too  aifected,  too  odd,  as  it  were,  too  peregrinate,  as  I  may  call 
it."  See  also  Ham.  p.  262.  My  picked  man  of  count7ies=  "my  travelled 
fop"  (Holt  White). 

196.  Ahsey  hook.  ABC  book,  or  primer,  which  often  included  a  cate- 
chism, like  the  old  New  England  Primer.  Halliwell  quotes  Cotgrave, 
Fr.  Diet. :  "  Aiece,  an  abcee,  the  crosse-row,  an  alphabet." 

201.  Compliment.  Toilet  cites  Sir  W.  Cornwallis's  Essays,  1601,  in 
which  the  extravagance  of  compliment  in  that  day  is  thus  ridiculed  : 
"  We  spend  even  at  his  [a  friend's  or  stranger's]  entrance  a  whole  vol- 
ume of  words.  What  a  deal  of  synamon  and  ginger  is  sacrificed  to  dis- 
simulation !     '  O,  how  blessed  do  I  take  mine  eyes  for  presenting  me 


ACT  I.    SCENE  I.  137 

with  this  sight !  O  Siguier,  the  star  that  governs  my  life  in  content- 
ment, give  me  leave  to  interre  myself  in  your  arms  ! — Not  so,  sir,  it  is  too 
unworthy  an  inclosure  to  contain  such  preciousness,'  &c.  &c.  This,  and 
a  cup  of  drink,  makes  the  time  as  fit  for  a  departure  as  can  be." 

203.    The  Pyrenean.     The  Pyrenees. 

207.  For  he  is  kit  a  bastard,  etc.  "  He  is  accounted  but  a  mean  man, 
in  the  present  age,  who  does  not  show,  by  his  dress,  his  deportment,  and 
his  talk,  that  he  has  travelled,  and  made  observations  in  foreign  coun- 
tries" (Malone).  For  smack  in  208  the  folio  has  "smoake;"  corrected 
by  Theo. 

'212.  Motion.     Impulse  ;  as  in  iv.  2.  255  below  :  "The  dreadful  motion 
of  a  murtherous  thought,"  etc. 

214.  Which.     Referring  to  to  deliver  s^ueet poison.     Cf.  Gr.  271. 

219.  To  bloiu  a  horn.  "He  means  that  a  woman  who  travelled  about 
like  2i post  was  likely  to  horn  her  husband"  (Johnson).  Cf.  Much  Ado, 
p.  123,  notes  on  Kecheat  and  Baldric k. 

220.  Gurney.  S.  may  have  got  this  name  from  Holinshed,  who,  in  his 
history  of  King  John,  mentions  a  Hugh  Gourney  (Malone). 

225.  Colbrand.  A  Danish  giant,  whom  Guy  of  Warwick  discomfited 
in  the  presence  of  King  Athelstan  (Johnson).  Q,{.  Hen.  F///.  v.  4.  22  : 
"  I  am  not  Samson,  nor  Sir  Guy,  nor  Colbrand,"  etc. 

227.  Unrevercnd.  Used  by  S.  interchangeably  with  tinrevereftt,  zxxd^^ 
irreverent,  disrespectful.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  6.  14:  "Fie,  fie,  unreverend 
tongue  !  to  call  her  bad,"  etc.     Irreverent  does  not  occur  in  S. 

228.  Scorn'st  thou  at.  Scoffest  thou  at.  Cf  Rich.  III.  iv.  4.  102  : 
"  one  that  scorn'd  at  me."     See  also  R.  and  J.  p.  160. 

230.  Give  tis  leave  azvhile.  Leave  us  alone ;  a  courteous  expression 
of  the  time.     See  R.  and  J.  p.  150,  note  on  Give  leave  awhile. 

231.  Good  leave,  good  Philip.  Coleridge,  in  one  of  his  Table-Talks, 
said  :  "  For  an  instance  of  Shakespeare's  power  in  minimis,  I  generally 
quote  James  Gurney's  character  in  A'itig  John.  How  individual  and 
comical  he  is  with  the  four  words  allowed  to  his  dramatic  life  !"  Clarke 
adds:  "They  certainly  suffice  to  show  us  the  free-and-easy  style  of  the 
confidential  servitor;  one  intrusted  with  the  family  secrets  of  this  coun- 
try household  ;  one  accustomed  to  treat  the  eldest  son,  but  not  the  heir, 
with  a  coolly  easy  familiarity  tolerated  by  the  good-humoured  young 
man,  and  only  lightly  waved  aside  by  the  new-made  knight." 

Sparrozu!  The  sparrow  was  called  Philip  from  its  note.  Holt  White 
quotes  Lyly,  Mother  Bombie : 

"cry 
Phip  phip  the  sparrowes  as  they  fly." 

From  the  note  of  the  bird,  Catullus,  in  his  Elegy  on  Lesbians  Spatro7u,  has 
formed  a  verb  :  "Ad  solam  dominant  usque  pipilabat.''''  Cf.  Gascoigne's 
Praise  of  Philip  Sparrow. 

"  Of  all  the  byrds  that  I  doo  know, 
Philip  my  sparrow  hath  no  peere. 

Let  other  prayse  what  byrd  they  \vill, 
Sweete  Philip  shall  be  my  byrd  still." 


138  NOTES. 

Sir  Richard  sportively  rebukes  Gurney  for  calling  him  by  his  former 
name  :  "  Philip  !  do  you  take  me  for  a  sparroiu .?" 

232.  There ''s  toys  abroad.  "Certain  trifling  changes  have  come  to 
pass  "  (Sr.).     For  /'^j/  =  trifle,  see  Ham.  p.  247  or  M.  N.  D.  p.  179. 

234.  Sir  Robert  might  have  eat,  etc.  Steevens  quotes  Heywood,  Dia- 
logues upon  Proverbs,  1 562  : 

"he  may  his  parte  on  good  Fridaie  eate, 
And  fast  never  the  wurs,  for  ought  he  shall  geate." 

236.  To  confess.     To  be  honest,  to  tell  the  truth. 

239.  Beholding.     Beholden,  indebted.     See  ^.  (^F.  p.  135,  or  Gr.  372. 

240.  Holp.  Helped  ;  the  form  regularly  used  by  S.  except  in  Rich.  III. 
V.  3.  167  and  0th.  ii.  i.  138,  where  we  find  helped.  It  is  also  the  more 
common  form  for  the  participle,  being  used  ten  times,  while  helped  occurs 
only  four  times.  Holpen  is  found  in  the  A.  V.  in  Ps.  Ixxxiii.  8,  Dan.  xi. 
34,  L7ike,  i.  54,  etc. 

243.  Untoward.  Uninannerly  ;  as  in  the  only  other  instance  of  the 
word  in  S.,  T.  of  S.  iv.  5.  79:  "Then  hast  thou  taught  Hortensio  to  be 
untoward." 

244.  Basilisco-like.  An  allusion,  as  Theo.  explains,  to  Soliman  and 
Perseda,  a  stupid  play  printed  in  1599  : 

'''' Basilisco.  O,  I  swear,  I  swear. 
^^ Piston.  By  the  contents  of  this  blade, — 
"Basilisco.   By  the  contents  of  this  blade, — 
'''' Pisto7i.   I,  the  aforesaid  Basilisco, — 
"'Basilisco.   I,  tlie  aforesaid  Basilisco, — knight, 
Good  fellow,  knight- 

^^ Piston.   Knave,  good  fellow,  knave,  knave." 

The  Bastard,  Basilisco-like,  insists  on  being  called  knight  instead  of 
kiiave. 

250.  Prober.  Comely,  handsome.  See  M.  of  V.  p.  132,  note  on  A 
proper  man^s  picture.     Cf  Neb.  xi.  23. 

Who  7uas  it,  mother?  "No  one  like  Shakespeare  for  setting  straight 
before  the  imagination  the  very  look,  gesture,  and  tone  with  which  a  few 
simple  words  could  be  uttered.  By  the  way  in  which  he  has  written 
these  two  lines,  introducing  this  little  sentence  at  the  close,  we  see  the 
son's  hugging  arm  thrown  round  her,  the  close  drawing  her  to  him,  the 
manly  wooing  voice  by  which  he  accompanies  the  coaxing  question  " 
(Clarke). 

256.  Dear.  Grievous.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  ii.  2.  181  :  "your  dear  offences;" 
Rich.  III.  i.  4.  215  : 

"  How  canst  thou  urge  God's  dreadful  law  to  us, 
When  thou  hast  broke  it  in  so  dear  degree?" 

Cf  Temp.  p.  124  (note  on  The  dear'st  d'  th'  loss)  or  Rich.  //.  p.  151. 

260.  Some  sins,  etc.  "  There  are  sins  that,  whatever  be  determined  of 
them  above,  are  not  much  censured  on  earth  "  (Johnson). 

262.  Dispose.  Cf  T  G.  of  V.  ii.  7.  86 :  "  All  that  is  mine  I  leave  at 
thy  dispose"  (see  also  Id.  iv.  i.  76).  For  a'/>/^j^  =  disposition,  temper, 
see  Oth.  p.  170. 

265.  A-aieless.     Fearless.     Fl.  makes  it  =  "  unruled,  lawless,"  compar- 


ACT  IL     SCExVE  /.  j.^) 

in^  tlie  use  o(  awe  in  N'obody  and  Somebody:  "Subjects  unto  the  awe  of 
Klidim." 

266.  N'or  keep,  etc.  The  allusion  is  to  the  old  legend  that  Richard  de- 
rived his  name  of  Cattr-de-lion  from  having  torn  out  the  heart  of  a  lion 
to  which  he  had  been  exposed  by  the  Duke  of  Austria  in  revenge  for 
having  killed  his  son.  A  metrical  form  of  the  story  may  be  found  in 
Percy's  Reliqices. 

267.  Perfo7-ce.     By  force.     See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  141  or  M.  AL  D.  p.  138. 
272.  ATy  kin.     The  king  and  the  dowager  queen.     Cf.  168  above. 


ACT  II. 

Scene  I. — In  the  folio  this  scene  is  headed  "  Scana  Seamdaf  and 
the  next  (iii.  l),  "Actus  Secnndiisy  The  latter  ends  with  iii.  i,  74,  mak- 
ing the  act  consist  of  only  74  lines  ;  and  "  Actus  Tertins,  Sccrna  prima  " 
then  begins,  continuing  to  end  of  iii.  i.  '■'■  Sccena  Seciinda'^  includes  iii.  2 
and  iii.  3,  and  " Sccena  Tertia'"  is  iii.  4.  The  divisions  of  the  last  two 
acts  are  the  same  as  in  the  modern  eds.  Fl.  makes  the  first  299  lines  of 
this  scene  a  second  scene  of  act  i.,  taking  the  remainder  as  ii.  i  ;  and  he 
divides  iii.  I  into  ii.  2  (74  lines)  and  iii.  i.  W.  also  makes  this  division 
of  iii.  I,  and  gives  good  reasons  for  it ;  but  for  convenience  in  cross  ref- 
erences we  follow  the  arrangement  (first  made  by  Theo.)  in  the  "Globe" 
ed.  and  most  of  the  modern  eds. 

I.  Before  Angiers,  etc.  The  folio  gives  this  speech,  and  the  one  in  18 
below,  to  " Le2uis,^'  but  it  clearly  belongs  to  King  Philip,  as  D.,  Clarke, 
and  some  others  assign  it.  The  expression  "At  onr  importance  "  in  7  is 
alone  sufficient  to  show  that  it  beh^ngs  to  the  king,  who  would  also  be 
more  likely  to  refer  to  Arthur  as  "noble  boy^'  than  would  Lewis,  who 
was  of  about  the  same  age.  As  Mr.  Williams  has  remarked,  those  who 
adhere  to  the  folio,  which  is  often  inaccurate  in  its  prefixes  (see,  for  in- 
stance, on  368  below),  forget  that  S.  has  crowded  into  this  drama  the 
events  of  several  years.  "  In  the  later  acts  Lewis  plays  a  conspicuous 
part,  and  heads  the  invasion  of  England  ;  but  at  the  period  in  question 
he  was  a  mere  youth,  and  was  evidently  so  considered  by  the  dramatist." 
Cf.  495  below,  where  the  king  addresses  him  as  "boy,"  and  521,  where 
he  and  Blanch  are  called  "young  ones."  It  is  hardly  probable  that  this 
"beardless  boy,"  as  the  Bastard  afterwards  calls  him  (v.  i.  69)  would  be 
the  first  to  welcome  the  Duke  of  Austria  here,  and  that  in  the  presence 
of  his  royal  father.  As  a  rule,  S.  "  makes  his  monarchs  and  great  per- 
sonages open  and  conclude  the  dialogue  whenever  they  appear."  It  may 
be  added  that  in  the  old  play  the  corresponding  speech  is  given  to  King 
Philip. 

Fl.  believes  that  the  first  200  lines  of  this  scene  (with  iii.  2.  i-io)  were 
"inserted  hurriedly  after  the  rest  of  the  play  had  been  written,"  and  after 
the  death  of  the  poet's  son,  Hamnet,  in  1596;  and  that  the  blunders  in 
names  "are  to  be  attributed  to  the  confusion  caused  by  grief  in  Shake- 
speare's mind." 


140  NOTES. 

The  introduction  ol  Austria  here  is  an  anachronism,  as  Leopold,  Duke 
of  Austria,  by  whom  Richard  I.  had  been  thrown  into  prison  in  1193, 
died  in  1195,  while  the  action  of  this  play  begins  in  1199  (Malone).  Cf. 
the  old  play  (i.  2.  4) : 

"  Brave  Austria,  cause  of  Cordelion's  death, 
Is  also  come  to  aid  thee  in  thy  wars." 

7.  Importance.  Importunity.  See  T.  N.  p.  168;  and  cf.  Much  Ado, 
p.  129,  note  on  Important. 

12.  God  shall  forgive  yon,  etc.  "  S.  has  made  Arthur  of  younger  age 
at  this  period  than  historical  truth  warrants  ;  but  he  well  knew  that  the 
truth  of  tragic  story  would  be  more  perfectly  fulfilled  by  having  a  child 
the  subject  of  injury  here.  The  way  in  which  he  has  drawn  the  innocent 
boy  throughout  is  intensely  pathetic — a  sweet  and  gentle  nature  hurled 
to  and  fro  like  a  flower  amid  tempests  ;  bruised,  wounded,  and  finally 
crushed  by  the  stormy  passions  and  ruthless  ambitions  of  the  merciless 
natures  around  him.  That  the  dramatist  has  nowise  violated  natural 
and  characteristic  truth,  by  making  the  little  prince  speak  with  a  grace 
and  propriety  beyond  those  generally  belonging  to  children  of  his  age, 
we  have  confirmatory  evidence  in  a  record  made  by  Froissart  in  liis 
Chronicles,  where  he  describes  the  conduct  of  the  Princess  of  France, 
then  '  a  yonge  childe  of  eyght  yere  of  age  '  "  (Clarke). 

16.  Unstained.  The  Coll.  MS.  makes  the  bad  alteration  "unstrained." 
As  Sr.  remarks,  "  the  antithesis  of  the  hand  without  power,  but  love 
without  stai/t,  is  both  lucid  and  forcible." 

20.  Indenture.  Contract.  See  Ham.  p.  262,  note  on  A  pair  of  indent- 
ures. 

23.  Pale  and  7vhite-fac^d  refer  of  course  to  the  chalk  cliffs  of  the 
southern  coast  of  England.     Hence  Albion,  from  the  Latin  albics,  white. 

26.  I'Vitk.     By.     Gr.  193.     On  the  passage,  cf.  Rich.  II.  ii.  i.  46  fol. 

34.  A  more  requital.  A  greater  return.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  78:  "a  more 
delight ;"/{'.  ^Z.  332  :  "  a  more  rejoicing  ;"  C.  of  E.\\.  2.\']i,:  "a  more 
contempt,"  etc. 

37.  Well  then,  etc.  The  first  speech  given  to  King  Philip  in  the  folio; 
but  the  form  of  expression  rather  implies  that  he  has  spoken  before. 
See  on  i  above. 

39.  Chiefcst.  A  superlative  often  used  by  S.  See  ]\I.  of  V.  ii.  8.  43, 
Macb.  iii.  5.  33,  Hain.  \.  2.  117,  etc. 

40.  Plots  of  best  advajitages.     Most  advantageous  positions. 

45.  Unadvis\i.  Inconsiderate,  rash.  Cf  R.  and  f.  ii.  2.  118:  "It  is 
too  rash,  too  unadvis'd,  too  sudden,"  etc.  See  also  191  and  v.  2.  132  be- 
low. 

49.  Indirectly.  Wrongfully;  as  in  Hen.  V.  ii.  4.  94:  "Your  crown 
and  kingdom,  indirectly  held,"  etc.  So  indirection  — -wrong,  in  iii.  i.  276 
below,  and  in  y.  C.  iv.  3.  75. 

50.  A  'wonder.  "  The  wonder  is  only  that  Chatillon  happened  to  ar- 
rive at  the  moment  when  Constance  mentioned  him  ;  which  the  French 
king,  according  to  a  superstition  which  prevails  more  or  less  in  every 
mind  agitated  by  great  affairs,  turns  into  a  miraculous  interjjosition,  or 
omen  of  good"  (Johnson). 


ACT  II.    SCENE  I.  141 

53.  We  coldly  pause  for  thee.  That  is,  we  restrain  ourself,  and  calmly 
wait  to  hear  thy  message.     Cf.  Mtich  Ado,  p.  145,  note  on  Bear  it  coldly. 

58.  Stay'd.     Waited  for.     See  Ham.  p.  268, 

59.  All  as  soon.     For  this  "  intensive  "  use  of  a//,  see  Gr.  28. 

60.  Expedient.  E.xpeditious,  rapid ;  used  by  S.  in  this  sense  only  in 
plays  before  1596  (Fl.).  See  Rich.  II.  p.  169 ;  and  cf.  223  and  iv.  2.  268 
below. 

63.  Ate.     See  Much  Ado,  p.  132.     The  folio  misprints  "Ace." 

65.  King's.  The  later  folios  have  "king."  The  old  play  has  "  Ne.xt 
t'  them,  a  bastard  of  the  king's  deceast." 

66.  Unsettled  humours.     Restless  spirits. 

67.  Voluntaries.  Volunteers.  Cf.  T.  and  C.  ii.  i.  106:  "Ajax  was  here 
the  voluntary." 

68.  Fierce  dragons'  spleens.  Cf.  Rich.  III.  v.  3.  350  :  "  Inspire  us  with 
the  spleen  of  fiery  dragons  !"    Spleen  — \m\>&\.uos\ty,  ardour. 

69.  Have  sold  their  fortunes,  etc.     Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  i.  i.  83  : 

"  O,  many 
Have  broke  their  backs  with  laying  manors  on  'em 
For  this  great  journey." 

73.  Bottoms.  Ships.  See  T.  N.  p.  162.  W^(?/?  =  wafted ;  as  in  M.  of 
V.  v.  I.  ri.  Gr.  341.  Cf.  /;^rt^  — heated,  in  iv.  i.  61  below.  Halliwell 
quotes  The  Affectionate  Shepheard,  1594  : 

"  And  from  Deaths  quiver  fell  a  fatall  shaft, 
That  under  Cupid  by  the  wind  was  waft." 

"J^.  Scath.  Harm,  mischief.  See  A'.  aW  y.  p.  161.  Spenser  uses  the 
noun  often;  as  in  F.  Q.  i.  12.  34:  "To  worke  new  woe  and  improvided 
scath,"  etc. 

77.  More  circumstance.  Further  particulars.  See  R.  and  J.  p.  178, 
note  on  Stay  the  circuvistance. 

85.  Lineal.     By  lineal  or  hereditary  right. 

87.  Whiles.     See  on  iii.  4.  132  below  ;  and  for  if  that  in  89,  Gr.  287. 

95.  Underwrought.  Undermined  ;  used  by  S.  nowhere  else.  Rowe 
changed  his  to  "  its,"  and  the  Coll.  MS.  has  "  her." 

97.  Outfaced  infant  state.  "  Brazenly  outraged  a  child's  right"  (Clarke) ; 
that  is,  his  right  to  the  throne.     For  outfaced,  cf.  v.  i.  49  below. 

lOi.  This  little  abstract,  etc.     Cf.  W.  T.  ii.  3.  97  : 

"  Behold,  my  lords, 
Although  the  print  be  little,  the  whole  matter 
And  copy  of  the  father,"  etc. 

103.  Brief.  Equivalent  to  abstract  above.  Cf.  M.  W.  i.  I.  146,  M.  N. 
D.  V.  I.  42,  etc. 

106.  This  is  Geffrey's.  This  is  Geffrey's  heir.  Mason's  change  oi  this 
to  "  his  "  (adopted  by  W.)  does  not  seem  to  be  necessary.  Clarke  makes 
this  is  Geffrey's -this  boy's  (that  is,  his  right)  is  Geffrey's. 

109.  Owe.  Own,  are  entitled  to.  Cf.  248  and  iv.  2.  99  below.  O'er- 
masterest —hast  become  master  of,  hast  got  by  force. 

III.  To  draio  my  ans'wer,  etc.  "To  make  me  answer  according  to 
thy  articles"  (Schmidt)  ;  "to  draw  up  my  replication  out  of  the  clauses 
of  your  own  brief"  (FL).     It  is  legal  phraseology. 


142  NOTES. 

113.  Breast.     The  ist  folio  has  "beast ;"  corrected  in  2d  folio. 
119.  Excuse.     Schmidt  is  probably  right  in  making  this  a  noun.     It 
seems  to  be  elliptical  =my  excuse  is.     Fl.  explains  it  "  pardon  me." 
123.  Check.     "  Treat  as  a  bondman  "  (Schmidt).     Cf.  3  Hen.  VI.  iii.  2. 

"to  command,  to  check,  to  o'erbear  such 
As  are  of  better  person  than  myself." 

Malone  quotes  Holinshed :  "  Surely  Queen  Eleanor,  the  kyngs  mother, 
was  sore  against  her  nephew  Arthur,  rather  moved  thereto  by  envye  con- 
ceyved  against  his  mother,  than  upon  any  just  occasion,  given  in  the  be- 
halfe  of  the  childe  ;  for  that  she  saw,  if  he  were  king,  how  his  mother 
Constance  would  looke  to  beare  the  most  rule  within  the  realme  of  Eng- 
lande,  till  her  sonne  should  come  to  a  lawful!  age  to  governe  of  himselfe. 
So  hard  a  thing  it  is,  to  bring  women  to  agree  in  one  minde,  their  natures 
commonly  being  so  contrary." 

127.  Than  thou,  etc.  The  folio  reads  "Then  thou  and  lohn,  in  man- 
ners being  as  like,"  etc.  ;  and  Fl.  prefers  that  pointing. 

12S.  Dam.  Here  used  contemptuously ;  but  not  always  so.  See  ?F.  7". 
p.  178. 

131.  If  thoiL  ivert  hts  mother.  "Constance  alludes  to  Elinor's  infideli- 
ty to  her  husband,  Louis  VII.,  when  they  were  in  the  Holy  Land  ;  on  ac- 
count of  which  he  was  divorced  from  her.  She  afterwards  (1151)  married 
our  King  Henry  II."  (Malone). 

134.  Hear  the  crier !  A  sarcastic  allusion  to  the  crier's  proclamation 
of  silence  in  courts  of  justice,  suggested  by  Austria's  Peace  ! 

136.  An  a'  ?nay  catch  yott,  etc.  It  is  said  that  Austria  wore  a  lion's 
hide  which  he  had  taken  as  a  spoil  from  Richard  when  he  killed  him 
(Pope).  As  Johnson  adds,  S.  assumed  that  this  story  would  be  familiar 
to  his  audience,  and  therefore  does  not  refer  to  it  in  the  play  as  the 
ground  of  the  Bastard's  hostility  to  Austria. 

137.  The  proverb.  "  Mortuo  leoni  et  lepores  insultant"  (Erasmus, 
Adagia,  quoted  by  Malone).  Steevens  cites  The  Spanish  Tragedy:  "So 
hares  may  pull  dead  lions  by  the  beard." 

139.  f  '//  smoke  your  skin-coat.  Halliwell  quotes  Cotgrave  :  " L^en 
anray, — blowes  being  understood — I  shall  be  well  beaten  ;  my  skin-coat 
will  be  soundly  curried."  In  the  North  of  England  smoke  is  a  provin- 
cialism ="  to  beat  severely." 

141.  O,  well,  etc.  Clarke  is  inclined  to  assign  this  speech  to  Constance 
rather  than  Blanch,  "  who  seems  intended  by  the  dramatist  to  take  no 
part  in  what  is  going  forward  until  there  is  question  of  her  marriage  with 
the  Dauphin,  and  she  is  addressed  by  him ;"  but  S.  follows  the  old  play, 
in  which  Blanch  says  : 

"Joy  tide  his  soul,  to  whom  that  spoil  belong'd: 
Ah,  Richard,  how  tliy  glory  here  is  wrong'd!" 

144.  As  great  Alcides''  shows,  etc.  The  folio  reads  "  As  great  Alcides 
shooes  vpon  an  Asse ;"  and  "shoes"  was  defended  by  Malone  and 
Steevens,  who  cited  sundry  passages  referring  to  the  shoes  of  Hercules 
on  feet  too  small  for  them.  Fl.  also  retains  "shoes,"  but  changes  ass  to 
"ape."     The  emendation  in  the  text  is  due  to  Theo.,  and  is  adopted  by 


ACT  II.     SCEXE  I.  ^  143 

most  of  the  recent  editors.  Keightley  conjectures  "  Alcides'  should,"  and 
Vaughan  "  Alcides'  does." 

147.  Cracker.  A  play  upon  the  various  meanings  of  the  word,  including 
that  of  boaster.  Halliwell  quotes  N^omendator,  1585  :  "  Grand  menteiir 
OH  vaiilair,  a  bragger  ;  a  boster  ;  a  vaunter  ;  a  craker  ;  a  vaine  praiser 
of  his  owne  virtue."     Cf.  the  modern  vulgarism,  "  cracking  himself  up." 

149.  King  Philip,  determine,  etc.     The  lolio  reads  : 

"  King  Leivis,  determine  what  we  shall  doe  strait. 
"Lew.  Women  &  fooles,"  etc. 

The   emendation   in   the  te.xt  was   made  by  Theo.     Capell's   reading, 

adopted  by  many  of  the  editors,  is 

."  King-  Philip.  Lewis,  determine  what  we  shall  do  straight 
"Lewis.  Women  and  fools,"  etc. 

The  objection  to  this  is  implied  in  the  note  on  i  above.  The  King 
would  not  be  likely  to  refer  the  matter  to  a  mere  "boy"  for  decision. 
For  Austria's  form  of  address,  cf.  iii.  I.  198:  "  King  Philip,  listen  to  the 
cardinal;"  and  again  in  219:  "Do  so,  King  Philip;  hang  no  more  in 
doubt."  As  Clarke  remarks,  the  reply  of  John,  "  I  do  defy  thee,  France,''' 
appears  conclusively  to  settle  the  point  that  we  ought  to  assign  the  pres- 
ent speech  to  King  Philip. 

152.  Anjou.  The  folio  has  ^  Angiers  f  corrected  by  Theo.  Cf.  487 
below. 

160.  It.  For  the  possessive  it,  see  W.  T.  p.  172,  note  on  //  own.  Here 
it  is  apparently  used  in  imitation  of  the  language  of  children,  or  the 
"baby-talk"  of  mothers  to  their  children. 

163.  Good  mv  mother,  peace  !     See  on  p.  34  above. 

165.  Coil.  Ado,  disturbance.  See  Miich  Ado,  p.  146,  or  M.  N.  D. 
p.  168. 

169.  Draws.     Changed  by  Capell  to  "  Draw."     See  Gr.  333. 

S.  is  fond  of  comparing  tears  to  pearls.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  980,  R.  of  L. 
1 2 13,  1553,  Sonn.  34.  13,  T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  i.  224,  Rich.  III.  iv.  4.  322,  and 
Lear,  iv.  3.  24. 

170.  Beads.  Cf.  J.  C.  iii.  I.  284:  "those  beads  of  sorrow."  Fl.  sees 
a  play  on  beads  of  a  rosary. 

177.  EUVst.     For  the  contraction  of  superlatives,  see  Gr.  473. 

178.  Infortunate.  Used  by  S.  occasionally  instead  oi  unfortunate ;  as 
incertain,  ingrateful,  insociable,  etc.     See  Gr.  442. 

180.  The  canon  of  the  law.     See  Exod.  xx.  5. 

183.  Bedlam.  Lunatic;  from  Bedlam  (or  Bethlehem)  Hospital  in 
London.     Cf.  Lear,  iii.  7.  103  :  "get  the  Bedlam  To  lead  him,"  etc. 

184.  That  he  is  not  only  p/agited,  etc.  Another  Chinese  puzzle  for  the 
critics  (see  on  i.  i.  139  above).     The  folio  gives  the  passage  thus : 

"Con.  I  haue  but  this  to  say, 
That  he  is  not  one'y  plagued  for  her  sin. 
But  God  hatli  made'  her  sinne  and  her,  the  plague 
On  this  remoued  issue,  plagued  for  her, 
And  with  her  plague  her  suine  :  his  iniury 
Her  iniurie  the  Beadle  to  her  sinne, 
All  punislid  in  the  person  of  this  cliilde. 
And  a.l  for  her,  a  plague  vpon  her." 


144  .  NOTES. 

The  pointing  in  the  text  (adopted  by  K.  and  the  Camb.  ed.)  is  that  of 
Mr.  Roby,  who  explains  the  passage  thus  :  "  God  hatli  made  her  sin  and 
herself  to  be  a  plague  to  this  distant  child,  who  is  punished  for  her  and 
with  the  punishment  belonging  to  her ;  God  has  made  her  sin  to  be  an 
injury  to  Arthur,  and  her  injurious  deeds  to  be  the  executioner  to  punish 
her  sin ;  all  which  (namely,  her  first  sin  and  her  now  injurious  deeds)  are 
punished  in  the  person  of  this  child." 

Many  of  the  editors  adopt  Rcxlerick's  conjecture  of  "plagued"  for 
plague  in  187.     Sr.  points  the  lines  thus: 

"  But  God  hath  made  her  sin  and  her  the  plague 
On  this  removed  issue  ; — plagu  d  for  her. 
And  with  her  plagu' d  ;  her  sin,  his  injury; 
Her  injury,  the  beadle  to  her  sin  :"  etc., 

which  he  explains  (abridging  Henley)  as  follows:  "Young  Arthur  is 
here  represented  as  not  only  suffering/rtf;«  the  guilt  of  his  grandmother, 
but  also  by  her  in  person,  she  being  made  the  very  instrument  of  his  suf- 
ferings. So  that  he  \s  plagued  on  her  accouut,  and  plagued  with  her,  that 
is,  by  her.  Her  sin  brings  upon  him  his  injury,  or  the  evil  he  suffers  ; 
and  her  injury,  or  the  evil  she  inflicts,  is  as  the  beadle  to  her  sin,  or  exe- 
cutioner of  the  punishment  annexed  to  it." 

The  only  other  reading  and  interpretation  we  will  notice  is  that  of  Fl., 
who  gives 

"  But  God  hath  made  her  sin  and  her  the  plague 
On  this  removed  issue ;  plagued  for  her, 
And  with  her  plague,  her  sin :  his  injury 
Her  injury,  the  beadle  to  her  sin  ;''  etc. 

His  explanation  is  :  "  Plagued  on  her  account,  and  by  means  of  her 
wrong-doing,  which  is  a  plague  inflicted  by  her  (cf.  her  sin,  the  plague,  in 
line  185) ;  the  injury  inflicted  on  him,  the  injury  inflicted  by  her,  being  the 
beadle,  the  chastiser  (in  Arthur's  sufferings)  of  her  original  wrong-doing." 
W.  points  the  passage  essentially  as  in  the  text,  but  adopts  Roderick's 
"plagued."  H.  follows  Sr.,  reprinting  his  explanation  as  above.  Clarke's 
reading  is  the  same  as  Fleay's. 

191.  Unadvised.     See  on  45  above. 

192.  Will.     There  is  a  play  upon  the  word. 

194.  Cankefd.  Venomous,  malignant ;  2&\n.  \  Hen.  IV.\.'i,.\yj'.  "in- 
grate  and  canker'd  Bolingbroke,"  etc. 

196.  Cry  aivt.  Encourage  ;  "an  expression  borrowed  from  archery  = 
to  encourage  the  archers  by  crying  out  aim  when  they  were  about  to 
shoot,  and  then  in  a  general  sense  to  applaud,  to  encourage  with  cheers  " 
(Schmidt).  Cf.  M.  IV.  iii.  2.  45  :  "  to  these  violent  proceedings  all  my 
neighbours  shall  cry  aim."  See  also  Id.  ii.  3.  93.  Halliwell,  among 
other  illustrations  of  the  phrase,  cites  B.  and  F.,  Love's  Cure:  "Can  I 
cry  aim  to  this  against  myself?" 

197.  Ill-ticjied  repetitions.  "Discordant  recriminations"  (Clarke).  Rep- 
etitions is  metrically  equivalent  to  five  syllables,  like  observation  in  i.  i. 
208  above. 

198.  Trumpet.     Trumpeter.     See  on  i.  i.  27  above. 

205.  Gentle  parle.  Friendly  parley.  Yox  parte,  see  Hen.  V.  p.  164; 
and  cf.  226  below. 


ACT  II.    SCENE  I, 


M5 


209.  Eiidiimagement.  Injury.  S.  uses  the  noun  only  here,  but  we  find 
the  verb  endamage  in  T.  G.  ofV.  iii.  2.  43  and  i  Hen.  VI.  ii.  i.  77. 

215.  Confronts  your.  The  1st  and  2d  folios  have  "Comfort  yours," 
the  3d  and  4th  "Comfort  your;"  corrected  by  Capell.  The  Coll.  MS. 
gives  "Come  'fore  your."  Win^ing^shwt  hastily,  in  apprehension  of 
danger. 

217.  Doth.  The  form  is  to  be  explained  by  the  proximity  of  waist. 
Cf  iii.  I.  295  below  :  "The  peril  of  our  curses  light  on  thee."    Gr.  412. 

218.  Ordinance.     Ordnance.     See  Hen.  V.  p.  161. 

220.  Dishabited.  Dislodged.  Fl.  gives  "dishabit'."  Cf.  waft  in  73 
above. 

223.  Expedient.     See  on  60  above. 

228.  A  shaking  fever.     Cf.  Alach.  ii.  3.  66  : 

"some  say,  the  earth 
Was  feverous  and  did  shake." 
See  also  Cor.  i.  4.  61. 

229.  Words  folded  tip  in  smoke.  Malone  compares  R.  of  L.  1027: 
"This  helpless  smoke  of  words  doth  me  no  right."  See  also  Id.  1042 
and  L.  L.  L.  iii.  i.  64. 

230.  To  make,  etc.     That  is,  to  deceive  your  ears,  to  delude  you. 

233.  Eonuearied.  Wearied  out,  exhausted;  used  by  S.  only  here.  Cf. 
Spenser,  E.  Q.\.  i.  32  :  "  Ye  all  forwearied  be  ;"  Id.  i.  9.  13  :  "  Forwearied 
with  my  sportes,"  etc. 

236.  Protection.     A  quadrisyllable.     See  on  197  above. 

237.  Divinely.     "  Religiously  "  (246  below),  sacredly. 

247.  Owe.  in  the  modern  sense  ;  but  in  the  next  line  =  owns,  is  enti- 
tled to,  as  in  109  above. 

250.  Aspect.     The  regular  accent  in  S.     Gr.  490. 

252.  Invulnerable.  The  1st  folio  has  "  involiierable  ;"  corrected  in  2d 
folio. 

253.  Unvcx^d  retire.  Unmolested  return.  For  the  noun,  cf  326  and 
V.  5.  4  below. 

256.  Spoilt.     Cf  T.  and  C.  iv.  5.  10  :  "  let  thy  eyes  spout  blood,"  etc. 

258.  Eondly  pass.  Foolishly  disregard  or  reject.  Proffer'd  offer  has 
been  suspected  of  corruption,  and  "love,"  "favour,"  "terms,"  etc.,  have 
been  suggested  in  place  oi  offer ;  hwX  proffered  offer  may  be  a  more  em- 
phatic/rt^v  or  offer,  or  a  mere  inadvertence  of  composition. 

259.  Konndiire.  Round  or  circle  [Yx.  rondeiir).  The  folios  have 
"rounder,"  which  indicates  the  pronunciation.  We  have  rondure  in 
Sonn.  21.8. 

264.  ///  that  behalf  which.  That  is,  in  which;  a  common  ellipsis  in 
relative  clauses.     See  Gr.  394. 

266.  Possession.  A  quadrisyllable.  Cf  repetitions  in  197  and  protec- 
tion in  236  above,  and  ocea7i  in  340  below.     Gr.  479. 

268.  Ear  him,  etc.  Cf.  the  old  play  :  "  to  him  will  we  remain  firm 
subjects,  and  for  him,  and  in  his  right,  we  hold  our  town." 

278.  Bloods.  "Men  of  mettle  "  (Schmidt).  Cf  y.  C.  i.  2.  151  :  "the 
breed  of  noble  bloods."     See  also  461  below. 

281.  Compound.     Agree,  decide. 

K 


146  .VOTES. 


2S8.  Swiiig-d.  Whipped,  conquered.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  i.  88,  iii.  i.  392, 
M.for  M.  V.  I.  130,  etc.     The  folio  has  "svvindg'd." 

289.  Ho7se  back.  As  one  word  ("horsebacke ")  in  the  folio.  See 
Alacb.  p.  204  (note  on  Horses)  or  Gr.  471. 

292.  I  would  set  an  ox-head,  etc.     Steevens  quotes  the  old  plsy: 

"  But  let  the  frolick  Frenchman  take  no  scorn, 
If  Philip  front  him  with  an  English  horn." 

On  tnonster,  cf.  0th.  iv.  i.  63  :   "A  horned  man  's  a  monster,"  etc. 

306.  Discolotir'd.     The  folio  has  "  discoloured." 

309.  Displayed.  Suggested  by  the  hamiers  (see  320  below),  though  re- 
ferring in  a  way  to  the  French. 

314.  Malicious.     Malignant,  destructive. 

316.  Gilt.     Stained.     See  Macb.  p.  192,  note  on  /  '' II gild,  etc. 

321.  Like  a  jolly  troop  of  huntsmen, t.ic.  Hunters  used  to  stain  their  hands 
with  the  blood  of  the  deer  as  a  badge  of  their  success.    Cf.y.  C.  iii.  i.  204: 

"Here  wast  thou  bay'd,  brave  hart, 
Here  didst  thou  fall ;  and  here  thy  hunters  stand, 
Sign'd  in  thy  spoil,  and  crimson'd  in  thy  lethe." 

323.  Dying.  There  is  an  obvious  play  upon  the  word.  The  pun  was 
a  common  one.  Halliwell  quotes  Heyvvood,  Epigrams,  1562:  "Dyers  be 
ever  dying,  but  never  dead  ;"  and  Uavies,  Scourge  of  Folly,  1611  : 

"  Turbine  the  dyer  stalkes  before  his  dore, 
Like  Ca;sar,  that  by  dying  oft  did  thrive; 
And  tliough  the  beggar  be  as  proud  as  pore. 
Yet  (like  the  mortifide)  he  dyes  to  live." 

325.  Might.  Could.  Gr.  312.  The  folios  give  the  speeches  of  this 
Citizen  to  '■'Hnb.''''  (Hubert),  a  mistake  probably  due  to  the  fact  that  both 
parts  were  taken  by  the  same  actor. 

326.  Retire.     Retreat.     See  on  253  above. 

328.  Censured.  Judged,  determined.  See  Much  Ado,  p.  139  ;  and  for 
the  noun  =  judgment,  Macb.  p.  251  or  Ham.  p.  190. 

The  cannot  is  not  strictly  consisteitt  with  the  context.  The  meaning 
clearly  is  that  the  equality  of  the  two  armies  is  evident,  or  both  are  alike  ; 
the  best  judges  cannot  see  any  variation  from  the  equality. 

335.  Run.  The  1st  folio  has  "  rome,"  changed  in  the  2d  to  "  rimne." 
W.  prefers  "  roam,"  as  agreeing  better  with  the  peaceful  progress.  He 
believes  that  S.  had  in  mind  the  same  stream  that  suggested  the  beauti- 
ful description  in  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  7.  25-32.  Here,  however,  roam  does  not 
seem  to  fit  the  comparison  so  well  as  run.  "  The  king  would  rather  de- 
scribe his  right  as  running  on  in  a  direct  than  in  an  irregular  course, 
such  as  would  be  implied  in  the  word  roam  "  (Steevens).  Cf.  also  the 
very  similar  passage  in  v.  4.  53-57,  where  we  have 

'^calmly  run  on  in  obedience 
Even  to  our  ocean,  to  our  great  King  John." 

336.  Vex''d.  Disturbed  Cf  Zmr,  iv.  4.  2  :  "  the  vex'd  sea."  See  also 
Temp.  i.  2.  229  and  R.  and  J.  i.  i.  198. 

339.  Water.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "waters,"  which  W.  adopts,  on  the 
ground  that  S.  does  not  use  the  singular  of  water  as  a  body,  but  only  as 
a  fluid. 


ACT  II.    SCENE  I. 


^47 


340.  OfMfi.  A  trisyllable  ;  as  in  T.  G.ofV.  ii.  7.  32.  Cf.  Milton,  Hymn 
on  A'ativ.  66 :  "  Whispering  new  joys  to  the  mild  ocean." 

344.  Climate.  Here  apparently^^sky,  heavens.  For  its  use  =  country, 
region,  see  Hick.  II.  p.  203. 

354.  Mousing.  Tearing,  as  a  cat  does  a  mouse.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  v.  i. 
274  :  "  Well  moused,  lion  !"  Malone  cites  Dekker,  Wonderful  Year,  1603  : 
"  Whilst  Troy  was  swilling  sack  and  sugar,  and  mousing  fat  venison,  the 
mad  Greekes  made  bonfires  of  their  houses."  Pope  changed  the  word 
to  "mouthing." 

355.  Differences.     Quarrels,  dissensions. 

356.  Fronts.    Brows,  faces.    See  IIam.\>.  2T)6,  woie  ow  The  front  of  yove. 

357.  Cry  havoc!  The  signal  that  no  quarter  was  to  be  given.  Cf. 
Cor.  iii.  I.  275  : 

"Do  not  cry  havoc,  where  you  should  but  hunt 
With  modest  warrant." 

See  also  J.  C.  iii.  i.  273,  Ham.  v.  2.  375,  etc. 

358.  Potents.  Potentates,  powers  ;  the  only  instance  of  the  noun  in  .S. 
The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  potent." 

367.  Lord  of  our  presence.  "Master  of  our  own  identity  or  individu- 
ality" (Clarke).     See  on  i.  i.  137  above. 

368.  A  greater  power^  than  toe.  Theo.  (following  Warb.)  changed  we 
to  "ye."  The  reference  may  be  to  "the  Lord  of  hosts,  who  has  not  yet 
decided  the  superiority  of  either  army  ;  and  till  it  be  undoubted  the 
people  of  Angiers  will  not  open  their  gates  "  (Toilet).  If  this  be  not  the 
meaning,  \.he  po^ver  must  be  our  fears.  All  the  folios  assign  this  speech 
to  the  French  king. 

371.  Kitig'dof.  Ruled  by  (Gr.  170).  The  folio  has  "Kings  of  our 
feare  ;"  corrected  by  Tyrwhitt.  Resolv'd=?,et  at  rest.  Cf.  its  use  =  dis- 
solved, in  V.  4.  25  below. 

373.  Scroyles.  Scabby  fellows  (Fr.  escroztelles) ;  a  term  of  great  con- 
tempt. Taylor  the  Water- Poet  speaks  of  a  "  hungry  sawcy  scroyle."  Cf. 
B.  J.,  Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  i.  I  .  "  hang  'em,  scroyles  !"  and  Poe- 
taster, iv.  3  :  "  I  cry  thee  mercy,  my  good  scroyle,  wast  thou  ?" 

376.  Industrious.  Capell  conjectured  "illustrious;"  but,  as  Steevens 
remarks,  the  expression  is  =  "  your  laborious  i/idttstry  of  war." 

378.  Mutines.  Mutineers,  rebels.  C{.  Ham.v.  2.  6:  "  the  mutines  in 
the  bilboes."  Mutiner  occurs  in  Cor.  i.  i.  254.  Malone  cites  a  History 
of  the  Je-ws,  written  in  Hebrew  by  Joseph  Ben  Gorion,  and  translated 
into  English  by  Peter  Morwyn,  1575,  which  tells  how  three  factions  in 
Jerusalem,  which  had  been  engaged  in  "most  cruel  battailes"  with  one 
another,  made  j^eace,  "  intending  to  turne  their  cruelty  upon  the  Ro- 
maines,  confirming  and  ratifying  the  same  atonement  and  purpose  by 
swearing  one  to  another,"  etc.  S.  had  probably  read  this  book,  as  the 
allusion  is  not  in  the  old  play. 

383.  Soul-fearing.     Soul-affrighting.     For /^ar  =  cause  to  fear,  cf  M. 

of  V.  V\.  I.  Q :  „ .     „    ,       ,   ,      ,  •  r 

•'  "I  tell  thee,  lady,  this  aspect  of  mine 

Hath  fear'd  the  valiant," 
and  see  note  in  our  ed.  p.  137.     Ci.  fearful  in  iv.  2.  106  below. 


148  NOTES. 

385.  yades.  Tile  word  meant  originally  a  worthless  or  vicious  horse. 
See  Hen.  V.  p.  170  and  Mitch  Ado,  p.  121.  For  the  masculine  use  of 
jade  as  applied  to  persons,  cf.  T.  ofS.  ii.  i.  202. 

387.   Viilgar.     General,  common  to  all. 

392.  Minion.  Darling,  favourite  (Fr.  mignon).  Cf.  Temp,  iv,  i,  98: 
"  Mars's  hot  min'ion  ;"  and  see  our  ed.  p.  136. 

396.  The  policy.  "That  which  you  call  policy"  (Schmidt);  or  "the 
politic  art,  the  ait  of  Machiavel"  (Fl.). 

398.  Knit.     Join,  unite  ;  as  in  iii.  i.  226  below. 

400.  Fight  ivho  shall.  Fight  to  decide  who  shall.  As  Abbott  (Gr.  382) 
remai'ks,  "the  Elizabethan  writers  objected  to  scarcely  any  ellipsis,  pro- 
vided the  deficiency  could  be  easily  supplied  from  the  context."  After= 
afterwards  ;  as  in  Temp.  ii.  2.  10,  etc.     Gr.  26. 

401.  Mettle.  The  early  eds.  make  no  distinction  between  mettle  and 
vtetal,  using  eith'tr  for  the  literal  or  the  metaphorical  meaning.  Thus, 
in  A'ich.  IJ.  i.  2.  23,  the  quartos  have  "mettall"  or  "mettal,"  the  folios 
"mettle." 

402.  Peevish.  Foolish ;  perhaps  the  only  sense  in  S.  See  Hen.  V. 
p.  171. 

404.  Saucy.  Impudent,  insolent ;  used  by  S.  in  a  stronger  sense  than 
the  modern  one.  Cf.  J.  C.  i.  3.  12:  "the  wo4d,  too  saucy  with  the 
gods,"  etc.     See  also  Mach.  p.  214. 

406.  Pell-mell.     Ci.  Pich.  III.v.  ■^.  2,12:   "  let 's  to 't  pell-mell,"  etc. 

411.  Thimder.  W.  adopts  Capell's  conjecture  of  "thunders  ;"  but  the 
word  may  be  used  collectively  =  cannon. 

418,   You.     For  you. 

421.  Persever.  The  regular  spelling  and  accent  in  S.  Cf.  A.  W.  iv.  2. 
36,  37,  where  it  rhymes  with  ez'ei:     Gr.  492. 

424.  Niece.  The  folios  have  "neere"  or  "near."  The  emendation 
is  from  the  Coll.  MS.  K.  and  Clarke  retain  and  defend  "near"  as  — 
nearly  related. 

425.  Dauphin.  It  is  "Dolphin  "  in  the  folios,  as  elsewhere;  and  W. 
retains  that  spelling,  whicli  indicates  the  pronunciation  of  the  time.  Cf. 
I  Hen.  VI.  i.  4.  107,  where  there  is  a  play  on  the  word  and  the  name  of 
the  fish. 

426.  Lusty.  "Full  of  animal  life  and  spirits"  (Schmidt);  as  in  255 
above  and  461  below. 

428.  Zealous.  Explained  by  Johnson  and  Schmidt  as  =  pious,  religious ; 
which  is  favoured  by  the  antithesis. 

431.  Bound.     Confine,  enclose  ;  as  in  442  below. 

434.  Complete  of.  "That  is,  full  of  those  qualities"  (Schmidt)  ;  com- 
plete therec>f,  or  therein.  Theo.  gave  "  complete  of, — say  ;"  and  Hanmer, 
"  complete,  oh  !  say." 

438.  A  she.  The  folios  have  "as  she  ;"  but  the  analogy  of  other  pas- 
sages in  S.  favours  Thirlby's  emendation,  which  has  been  generally 
adopted.     See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  170,  or  Gr.  224. 

For  the  idea  that  woman  was  completed  or  perfected  bv  marriage,  see 
T.  N.  p.  121  (note  on  Are filPd,  etc.)  and  p.  140  (note  on  Perfection). 

446.  Battery.     Battering,  assault. 


ACT  II.     SCENE  I.  149 

447.  Match.  Johnson  is  "loath  to  think"  that  there  is  a  play  on  the  word. 

448.  Spleen.     See  on  68  above  ;  and  cf.  iv.  3.  97  and  v.  7.  50  below. 
455.  Stay.     A  word  that  has  been  a  stumbling-block  to  the  conunen- 

tators.  See  a  page  and  a  half  of  discussion  in  the  Var.  of  182 1.  Proba- 
bly Schmidt  is  right  in  explaining  it  as  "the  imperative  of  the  verb  used 
substantively."  The  Citizen  has  begun  (416)  by  saying  "  vouchsafe  awhile 
to  stay.''''  Some  make  j'/(y/  =  support,  prop;  and  Clarke  thinks  there 
may  be  an  indirect  reference  to  that  sense  of  the  word.  "  That  a  re- 
straint and  a  support  should  be  personified  sufliciently  to  be  supposed 
capable  of  shaking  'the  rotten  carcass  of  old  Death'  is  not  beyond  the 
license  of  poetry  in  figurative  language."  "Flaw,"  "say,"  "story," 
"  storm,"  etc.  have  been  suggested,  but  no  change  is  necessary. 

462.  He  speaks  plain  cannon  fire,  etc.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  v.  2.  156  :  "  I  speak 
to  thee  plain  soldier."  See  also  Muck  Ado,  ii.  i.  255,  343,  Ham.  iii.  2. 
414,  etc.     Bounce  — ''  bang  "  (Schmidt). 

465.  Buffets.  Boxes  ;  as  in  Hen.  V.  v.  2.  146  :  "  if  I  might  buffet  for 
my  love,"  etc. 

466.  Zounds.  Like  ''swouitds  (see  Ham.  p.  214),  contracted  from 
"God's  wounds !" 

468.  Conjunction.     Connection,  union  ;  as  in  iii.  i.  227  below.     Capell 
marks  468-479  as  "■Aside  to  John." 
471.  Unsur'd.     "  Unsure"  (iii.  i.  283  below),  unassured. 

476.  Capable.     Susceptible.     Cf.  iii.  i.  12  below. 

477.  Lest  zeal,  etc.  Steevens  thought  that  zeal  is  compared  to  "metal 
in  a  state  of  fusion,"  not  to  dissolving  ice,  as  Johnson  had  explained  it 
Malone  paraphrases  the  passage  thus  :  "  Lest  the  now  zealous  and  to  you 
well- affected  heart  of  Philip,  which  but  lately  was  cold  and  hard  as  ice, 
and  has  luwly  been  melted  and  softened,  should  by  the  breath  of  suppli- 
cations of  Constance,  and  pity  for  Arthur,  again  become  congealed  and 
frozen."     Cf.  iii.  4.  149  below  : 

"  This  act  so  evilly  bom  shall  cool  the  hearts 
Of  all  his  people  and  freeze  up  their  zeal." 

\V.  makes ///y  and  remorse  the  subject  oi  cool  and  congeal. 

481.  Treaty.  Here=proposal  tending  to  a  treaty  or  agreement;  as 
in  Cor.  ii.  2.  59  and  A.  and  C.  iii.  1 1.  62. 

485.  This  book  of  beauty.  For  the  metaphor,  cf.  R.  and  J.  i.  3.  87  : 
"  This  precious  book  of  love,  this  unbound  lover  ;"  and  see  Id.  iii.  2.  83, 
0th.  iv.  2.  71,  etc.     Malone  compares  Macb.  i.  5.  63. 

487.  Atijou.  The  folios  have  "  Angiers,"  as  in  152  above ;  corrected 
by  Thco. 

492.  Promotions.     A  quadrisyllable.     See  on  266  above. 

494.  Holds  hand  with.     Goes  hand  in  hand  with,  equals. 

498.  Shadow.     Reflection;  as  in  V.andA.  162: 

"  Narcissus  so  himself  liimself  forsook. 
And  died  to  kiss  his  shadow  in  the  brook." 

See  also  /(/.  1099,  Rich.  II.  iv.  i.  293  (where  there  is  a  play  upon  shadozo, 
as  here),  and  J.  C.  i.  2.  58. 

502.  Infixed.  Imprinted.  Cf.  A.  IV.  v.  3.  47  :  "  Where  the  impres- 
sion of  mine  eye  infixing,"  etc 


ISO 


NOTES. 


503.  Table.  Tablet,  or  that  on  which  a  picture  is  drawn  or  painted. 
Cf.  Sonn.  24.  2  : 

"Mine  eye  hath  play'd  the  painter  and  hath  stell'd 
Thy  beauty's  form  in  table  of  my  heart ;" 

and  A.  IV.  i.  i.  106:  <..     -^      ,  , 

to  sit  and  draw 

His  arched  brows,  his  hawking  eye,  his  curls, 

In  our  heart's  table." 

In  the  speech  that  follows,  there  is  an  allusion  to  the  punishment  of 
"drawing,  hanging,  and  quartering."  For  similar  quibbles,  see  JMuch 
Ado,  p.  143,  note  on  Hang  it  first,  and  draiu  it  aftenvards. 

513^  Translate  it  to  my  -will.  Cf.  RI.  IV.  i.  3.  54 :  "  He  hath  studied 
her  will,  and  translated  her  will,  out  of  honesty  into  English."  See  also 
A.  Y.  L.  ii.  I.  19. 

527.  Volquessen.  The  old  name  of  a  part  of  Normandy  (the  Latin  Pa- 
gus  Velocassinns)  more  recently  known  as  Le  Vexin.     Cf.  the  old  play : 

"  lohn.   First,  Philip  knows  her  dowry  out  of  Spaine, 
To  be  so  great  as  to  content  a  king: 
But  more  to  mend  and  amplify  the  same, 
I  give  in  money  thirty  thousand  marks. 
For  land  I  leave  it  to  thine  own  demand. 

"  Phil.  Then  I  demand  Volquesson,  Torain,  Main, 
Poiters,  and  Aniou,  these  five  provinces, 
Which  thou,  as  King  of  England,  hold'st  in  France." 

530.  Marks.     The  ttiark  was  worth  13  shillings  4  pence. 

532.  Join  hands.  That  is,  for  the  formal  betrothal.  See  T.  N.  p.  160 
(note  on  Plight  me,  etc.)  and  p.  166  (note  on  Contracted). 

533.  Likes.  Pleases.  See  Nam.  pp.  202,  274.  The  folio  points  the 
line  thus :  "  It  likes  vs  well  young  Princes :  close  your  hands ;"  cor- 
rected by  Rowe. 

534.  And  your  lips  too.  This  was  also  a  part  of  the  ceremony  of  be- 
trothal.    See  T.  N.  v.  i.  159  : 

"A  contract  of  eternal  bond  of  love, 
Confirm'd  by  mutual  joinder  of  your  hands. 
Attested  by  the  holy  close  of  lips, 
Strengthen'd  by  interchangement  of  your  rings,"  etc. 

535.  Assured.  Aftianced.  Walker  conjectures  "aflied,"  but  the  repe- 
tition with  a  play  on  the  word  is  quite  in  the  poet's  manner.  Cf.  247, 
248,  and  498-500  above. 

538.  Saint  Marys  chapel.  This  is  said  to  be  the  so-called  Church  of 
Ronceray,  dedicated  to  St.  Mary  the  Virgin  in  1028  and  re-dedicated  in 
1 1 19  by  Pope  Calixtus  II.  It  is  now  used  as  a  chapel  for  the  students 
of  the  School  of  Arts. 

544.  Passionate.  Full  o{ passion  or  sorrow.  Cf  T.  G.of  V.  i.  2.  124: 
"  Poor,  forlorn  Proteus,  passionate  Proteus."  Passion  often  =  sorrow  ; 
as  in  L.  L.  L.\.2.  118:  "  passion's  solemn  tears,"  etc. 

550.   Vantage.     Advantage  ;  as  in  Sonn.  88.  12,  Pick.  II.  i.  3.  218,  etc. 

558.  Exclamation.  Outcry,  vociferous  opposition.  Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  ii. 
I.  88  :  "  What  man  of  good  temper  would  endure  this  tempest  of  excla- 
mation ?"     See  also  R.  of  L.  705,  Rich.  III.  iv.  4.  153,  etc. 

563.  Departed  with.     Parted  with.     Cf.  L.  L.  L.  ii.  I.  147  :  "  Which 


ACT  II.    SCENE  /. 


151 


we  much  rather  had  depart  withal,"  etc.  See  also  B.  J.,  Every  I\Iau  out 
of  his  Humour,  iv.  7  :  "  Faith,  sir,  I  can  hardly  depart  with  ready  money  ;" 
]j.  and  F.,  Two  Noble  Kinstnen,  ii.  i  :  "I  may  depart  with  little  wiiile  I 
live,"  etc.  Depart  was  also  often  =  part,  separate  ;  as  in  3  Hen.  VI.  ii.  6. 
43:  "life  and  death's  departing."  In  the  English  Marriage  Service 
"lill  death  us  do  part"  was  originally  "till  death  us  depart;"  as  in  an 
old  play  quoted  by  Nares  :  "  Aye,  till  death  us  depart,  love."  Cf.  Spen- 
ser, F.  Q.  ii.  10.  14 :  "  Which  Severne  now  from  Logris  doth  depart." 

566.  J\oiiiided.  Whispered;  as  in  W.  T.  i.  2.  217:  "whispering, 
rounding,"  etc.     See  also  Hen.  VIII.  p.  168,  foot-note. 

56S.  Broker,  Go-between.  See  Ham.  p.  191.  There  is  a  jjlay  on  the 
word  in  breaks. 

573.  Commodity.     Self-interest.     7}V/'//;/_o-=  flattering,  cajoling. 

574.  Bias.  An  allusion  to  the  game  of  bowls.  See  Ham.  p.  200  (note 
on  Assays  of  bias)  and  Kieh.  II.  p.  197  (note  on  Rubs).  Henderson  quotes 
Cupid's  Whirligig,  1607  : 

"  Oh,  the  world  is  like  a  byas  bowle,  and  it  runs 
All  on  the  rich  men's  sides." 

The  eye  (583)  was  the  hole  in  which  the  weight  was  put  to  give  the  bowl 
its  bias. 

575.  Peized.  Poised,  balanced.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  22  :  "to  peize  the 
time  "  (that  is,  to  retard  it  by  hanging  weights  on  it).  In  Rich.  III.  v.  3. 
105,  "  peize  me  down  "  =  weigh  me  down.    For  w/^c'  =  which,  see  Gr.  264. 

579.  Take  head  from.  Take  its  own  course  away  from.  Indifferency  — 
straightforwardness,  impartiality.  Schmidt  makes  it  =  "  moderate  meas- 
ure ;"  as  in  the  only  other  instance  of  the  word  in  S.  (2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  3.  23). 

1^84.  Aid.  Coll.  adopts  Mason's  conjecture  of  "aim  ;"  but  determined 
aid  may  be=the  aid  that  he  had  determined  to  give. 

587.  Rail  on.  S.  uses  on  or  npon  with  rail  much  oftener  than  at  or 
against. 

588.  But  for  because.  Only  because.  For  yi;;- (  =  because)  and /c^;"  <^^- 
causc,  see  Gr.  151.     Cf.  591  just  below. 

590.  Angels.  The  gold  coin  so  called.  Its  value  was  about  ten  shil- 
lings. On  one  side  was  a  figure  of  Michael  piercing  the  dragon.  The 
device  is  said  to  have  been  suggested  by  Pope  Gregory's  pun  on  Angli 


GOLDEN    ANGEL   OF   QUEEN    ELIZABETH. 


152 


NOTES. 


and  Angeli.  For  the  quibble  here,  cf.  M.  IV.  i.  3.  60,  MucA  Ado,  ii.  3.  35, 
and  2  Hen.  IV.  i.  2.  187. 

591.  Uiiattempted.  Not  tempted.  So  attempt ~\.&m.^\. ;  as  in  iJ/.  ^  K 
iv.  I.  421  :  "I  must  attempt  you  further,"  etc. 

593.  Whiles.     See  on  87  above. 

597.  Upon  commodity.     That  is,  when  it  is  for  their  interest. 


ACT   III. 

Scene  I. — 5.  Be  well  advised.  Consider  well  what  you  say.  Cf.  a^- 
i'Wf/^ considerate,  in  iv.  2.  214  below. 

12.  Capable  of.     Susceptible  of.     Cf.  ii.  i.  476  above. 

14.  Subject.  Fl.  takes  this  to  be  the  participle,  like  waft  in  ii.  i.  73 
above. 

17.  Spirits.  Monosyllabic;  as  often.  Gr.  463.  Take  a  truce  with  = 
make  a  truce  with,  pacify,  or  quiet ;  as  in  R.  and  J.  iii.  i.  162,  etc. 

19.  Shaking  of.     Cf  J.  C.  v.  3.  38  :  "saving  of  thy  life,"  etc.     Gr.  178. 

22.  Hheutn.  Moisture ;  often,  as  here,  applied  to  tears.  Cf.  Miich 
Ado,  V.  2.  85,  Rich.  II.  i.  4.  8,  Cor.  v.  6.  46,  Ham.  ii.  2.  529,  etc.  See  also 
iv.  I.  33  and  iv.  3.  108  below. 

23.  Peering  o'er.  "  Overpeering"  {M.  of  V.  i.  I.  12,  Ham.  iv.  5.  99, 
etc.),  rising  above. 

27.  "The  way  in  which  Salisbury's  character  is  drawn,  refined  in 
speech,  gentle  in  manner,  has  fitness  as  well  as  beauty;  he  was  son  to 
Kina:  Henry  II.  by  Rosamond  Clifford,  surnamed  'Fair  Rosamond'" 
(Cla'rke). 

33.  Which.  Who  (Gr.  265) ;  or  we  may  say  that  the  relative  refers  in 
a  way  to  hoXh.  fury  and  men. 

41.  As.     Cf.  296  below  :  "  So  heavy  as  thou  shalt  not,"  etc.     Gr.  109. 

42.  Be  content.     Be  calm  ;  as  in  Rich.  II.  v.  2.  82,  etc. 

Clarke  remarks  here  :  "  The  boy's  artless  appeals  to  his  mother  amidst 
her  vehement  indignation  and  passionate  lamentation,  a  compound  of 
maternal  ambition  and  maternal  love,  should  have  sufficed  to  teach  her 
heart  the  lesson  so  subtly  inculcated  by  the  poet,  that  ambitious  projects 
indulged  for  the  sake  of  a  being  beloved,  until  they  merge  affection  in 
violence  and  absorbing  purpose,  gradually  undermine  love  in  the  bosom 
of  the  one  beloved.  It  is  curious  to  observe  how  little  of  tenderness 
there  is  in  Arthur  towards  his  motiier,  as  response  to  all  the  passionate 
(but  vehemently  and  even  violently  passionate)  love  she  lavishes  upon 
him.  Thus  acutely  and  truly  does  Shakespeare  indicate  his  moral  les- 
sons" (Clarke). 

45.  Sightless.  Unsightly.  It  means  invisible  in  Macb.  i.  5.  50  and  i.  7. 
23.     On  blots,  ci.R.of^L.ST,T.  "birth-hour's  blot." 

46.  Stuart.  Swarthy,  dark  ;  as  in  C.  of  E.  iii.  2.  104  and  i  Hen.  VI.  i. 
2.  84.     Q,i.  swart-complexioned  \\\  Sonn.  28.  II. 

Prodigious.     Monstrous,  unnatural.     Cf.  Rich.  III.  i.  2.  22  ; 


ACT  HI.    SCENE  I.  153 

"  If  ever  he  have  child,  abortive  be  it, 
Prodigious,  and  untimely  brought  to  light, 
Whose  ugly  and  unnatural  aspect 
May  fright  the  hopeful  mother  at  the  view,"  etc. 

See  also  AT.  A^.  D.  p.  190  ;  and  ci.  prodigiously  in  91  below. 

56.  Adulterates.  Commits  adultery;  the  only  instance  of  the  verb  in 
S.     Cf.  the  adjective  in  Ham.  i.  5.  42,  etc. 

65.  Uiiderbear.  Bear,  endure;  as  in  Rich.  II.  i.  4.  29:  "And  patient 
underbearing  of  his  fortune." 

69.  Stoop.  That  is,  stoop  to  grief  (Malone).  "  Feeling  herself  bowed 
down  by  grief,  sinking  beneath  the  load  of  her  sorrows  and  injuries,  she 
may  well  say  that  she  will  teach  them  to  be  proud,  to  resist  the  pride  of 
^v'^y"  which  makes  her  stoop  to  its  overpowering  weight.  She  feels  her- 
self physically  giving  way  under  the  load  of  the  burden  laid  upon  her  ; 
and  with  her  rich  imagination  converts  the  earth  to  which  she  is  com- 
pelled to  stoop  into  a  supporter  and  throne'''  (Clarke).  Some  editors 
adopt  Hanmer's  "stout"  for  stoop. 

73.  Sorro7os.  Changed  by  Pope  to  "sorrow."  Jackson  would  take 
the  poetry  out  of  the  passage  by  reading  "in  sorrow." 

78.  Plays  the  alchemist,  etc.     Cf.  Souu.  33.  i  : 

"  Full  many  a  glorious  morning  have  I  seen, 
Flatter  the  mountain-tops  with  sovereign  eye, 
Kissing  with  golden  face  the  meadows  green, 
Gilding  pale  streams  with  heavenly  alchemy." 

Steevens  remarks  that  Milton  has  borrowed  the  image  in  P.  L.  iii.  609  : 
"The  arch-chemic  sun,"  etc. 

86.  High  tides.  Great  days,  "  high  festivals  "  (i  Hen.  VI.  i.  6.  26).  For 
//fl'i?=time,  see  R.  and  J.  p.  150,  note  on  Lain  mas-tide. 

87-  Nay,  rather,  etc.     Alluding  to  Job,  iii.  3  and  v.  6  (Upton). 

92.  But.  Except.  For  wrack  (the  only  spelling  in  the  early  eds.), 
see  T.  N.  p.  162.  This  instance  of  the  word  is  wrongly  referred  to  Macb. 
iii.  I  in  Mrs.  Clarke's  Concordance. 

99.  Counterfeit.  The  word  meant  a  portrait  (see  M.of  V.  iii.  2.  115  : 
"Fair  Portia's  counterfeit,"  etc.)  as  well  as  a  false  coin  ;  and  perhaps,  as 
Malone  and  Clarke  suggest,  the  two  senses  are  blended  here. 

100.  Touch'' d  and  tried.  Alluding  to  the  use  of  the  touchstone  in  test- 
ing counterfeit  coin. 

105.  Painted.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "faint  in."  Clarke  paraphrases  the 
passage  thus:  "The  contentious  vigour  of  appearance  and  threatening 
warlike  visage  with  which  you  came  here  on  our  behalf  is  turned  into  a 
lifeless  pretence  of  amity  and  simulated  peace." 

107.  Arm,  arm, cic.  "This  grandly  wild  appeal  of  an  outraged  moth- 
er has  its  sublime  parallel  in  that  of  the  outraged  father,  Lear ;  where 
he  invokes  the  heavens  to  make  his  cause  their  own,  because  themselves 
are  old.  Shakespeare  never  repeats  himself;  but  he  has  some  few  of 
these  exceptional  similitudes,  where  Natme  herself  has  them,  in  the  rare- 
ness of  extreme  crises  of  ])assion  "  (Clarke). 

no.  Sunset.  Perhaps  Fl.  is  right  in  reading  "sun  set,"  on  the  ground 
that  S.  accents  sunset  on  the  lirst  syllable.     In  3  Ile/i.  VI.  ii.  2.  116,  it  is 


154 


NOTES. 


sunset,  but  that  is  "  counted  out  "  as  not  by  S.  The  only  other  passages 
in  which  the  noun  occurs  are  Sonn.  73.  6  and  R.  and  J.  iii.  5.  127. 

114.  O  Lymoges !  O  Austria!  S.  follows  the  old  play  in  making  one 
personage  out  of  two  enemies  of  Coeur-de-lion.  "Leopold,  duke  of 
Austria,  threw  him  into  prison  in  a  former  expedition  [in  1193]  ;  but  the 
castle  of  Chaluz,  before  which  he  fell  [in  1 199],  belonged  to  Vidomar,  vis- 
count of  Limoges  ;  and  the  archer  who  pierced  Lis  shoulder  with  an  ar- 
row (of  which  wound  he  died)  was  Bertrand  de  Gourdon  "  (Steevens). 

119.  Hu7norous.     Capricious.     See  ^.  K  Z.  p.  146. 

121.  Soothest  up.  Flatterest.  Cf.  Cor.  i.  9.  44:  "Made  all  of  false- 
fac'd  soothing,"  etc. 

122.  Ramping.  Rampant.  Cf.  i  Hen.  IV.  iii.  i.  153:  "a  ramping 
cat ;"  and  3  Hen.  VI.  v.  2.  13  :   "a  ramping  lion." 

123.  Party.     See  on  i.  i.  34  above. 
127.  Fall  over.     Go  over,  desert. 

129.  A  calf's  skin.  The  folio  has  "Calues  skin,"  and  "Calues-skin  " 
in  131  and  133  below.  It  is  said  that  the  domestic  fools  used  to  wear 
calf-skin,  but  here  the  meaning  probably  is  that  a  calfskin  would  suit 
his  recreant  limbs  better  than  a  Hail's  (Ritson). 

130.  Should.  Changed  by  Pope  to  "  would,"  to  which  it  is  here 
equivalent,     Cf.  Gr.  326. 

138.  Of  fair  Milan  cardinal.  Mrs.  Clarke's  Concordance  has  the  curi- 
ous misprint  "fair  Milan  cathedrar''  in  the  reference  to  this  passage 
under  A/ilau. 

141.  Against.  The  only  instance  of  j-/;/;-«  rTifa/z/j'^  in  S.  Schmidt  com- 
pares Acts,  ix.  5  :  "  kick  against  the  pricks."  We  find  spurn  at  in  V.  and 
A.  ^11,  C.  of  E.  ii.  2.  136,  and  Ham.  iv.  5.  6  ;  and  spurn  upon  in  Rich.  III. 
i.  2.  42. 

142.  Force  perforce.  An  emphatic  form  o{  perforce  ^=hy  force  or  vio- 
lence ;  used  also  in  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  i.  116  and  2  Hen.  VI.  i.  i.  258.  In  2 
Hen.  IV.  iv.  4.  46,  it  is  =  of  necessity. 

145.  Foresaid.     Not  "  'foresaid,"  as  often  printed. 

147.  Earthly.  The  folio  has  "earthie,"  which  is  probably  a  misprint 
for  "earthlie,"  as  Pope  and  most  of  the  modern  editors  consider  it.  The 
folio  has  "  earthy  "  in  the  same  sense  in  Rich.  II.  i.  3.  69,  but  the  quartos 
have  "earthly."     The  Camb.  ed.  and  Fl.  retain  "earthy"  here. 

Interrogatories.  Questions  asked  on  oath  ;  as  in  M.  of  V.  v.  i.  298, 
300,  and  A.  W.  iv.  3.  207.  S.  uses  the  word  only  in  these  passages  and 
Cymb.  V.  5.  392.  The  folio  has  "  intergatories  "  in  all  but  the  last,  and 
most  of  the  modern  eds.  give  "  inter'gatories  "  there. 

148.  Task.  Misprinted  "  tast "  in  the  ist  and  2d  folios  (the  later  ones 
have  "  taste  ") ;  corrected  by  Theo. 

151.  The  pope.     That  is,  the  pope's,  or  that  of  the  pope.     See  Gr.  384. 

154.  Toll.    Take  toll,  levy  a  tax.    In  A.  W.  v.  3.  149,  it  means  \.opay  toll. 

169.  Revenue.     For  the  accent,  see  M.  N.  D.  p.  125  or  Gr.  490. 

173.  Excommunicate.  P"or  the  form,  cf.  I  Hett.  IV.  v.  i.  72  :  "These 
things  indeed  you  have  articulate,"  etc.     Gr.  342. 

177.  Canonized.  The  accent  on  the  second  syllable,  as  elsewhere  in 
S.     Cf.  iii.  4.  52  below  ;  and  see  Ham.  p.  194. 


ACT  III.    SCENE  L  155 

180.  Room  with  Rome.     This  shows  that  Rome  was  pronounced  like 

room.     Cf.  J.  C.  i.  2.  156  :   "  Now  is  it  Rome  indeed  and  100m  enough," 

etc.     In  R.  of  L.  715,  it  rhymes  to  doom,  and  in  Id.  1644  to  groom.     But 

it  would  seem  to  have  had  sometimes  the  modern  pronunciation.     Cf.  i 

Hen.  VI.  iii.  i.  51  : 

"  IVinchester.  Rome  shall  remedy  this. 
Warwick.  Roam  thither,  then." 

201.  Your  breeches,  etc.  Steevens  remarks  :  "  Perhaps  there  is  some- 
thing proverbial  in  this  sarcasm.     Cf.  the  old  play  ol  King  Leir,  1605  : 

'  Well  I  have  a  payre  of  slops  for  the  nonce, 

Will  hold  all  your  mocks.'  " 

For  slops  =  breeches,  see  Much  Ado,  p.  143. 

204.  Bethink  you.     Consider,  reflect ;  as  in  yl/.yi'r  ^/.  ii.  2.  87,  144,  etc. 

209.  Untrimmed.  The  reading  of  the  folio,  which  Schmidt  makes  == 
"divested  of  her  wedding-gown."  Perhaps  \V.  is  right  in  explaining  it 
as  "in  deshabille  ;  and  in  some  such  condition  was  Blanch  on  account 
of  her  unexpected  nuptials  and  the  haste  in  which  they  were  performed." 
D.  suggested  "  uptrimmed,"  comparing  R.  and  J.  iv.  4.  24  :  "  Go  waken 
Juliet,  go  and  trim  her  up  ;"  but  in  this  case,  as  W.  remarks,  "  there  was 
no  time  to  trim  Blanch  up."  He  adds:  "The  obvious  allusion,  too,  to 
the  temptation  of  Saint  Anthony  makes  it  clear  that  the  old  text  is  cor- 
rect. It  is  of  course  not  intimated  that  Blanch  was  then  and  there  in  a 
condition  approaching  that  in  which  the  temptress  of  Saint  Anthony  is 
generally  supposed  to  have  won  the  victory  for  the  Devil.  Constance's 
epithet  has  at  once  a  slight  taint  of  womanish  spite  and  a  forward  look 
for  Lewis."  Some  see  \\\  untrimmed  an  allusion  to  the  fact  that  brides 
used  to  go  to  church  with  their  hair  dishevelled.     Cf.  Spenser,  Prothala- 

niioti,  22  : 

"locks,  all  loose  untyde, 
As  each  had  bene  a  Bryde ;" 

and  Webster,  White  Dez'il  : 

"  Let  them  dangle  loose 
As  a  bride's  liair." 

Fl.  cites  Tancred  and  Gismunda,  v.  2  : 

"  So  let  thy  tresses,  flaring  in  the  wind, 
Untrimmed  hang  about  thy  bared  neck;"  * 

and  Id.  v.  3  :  "  O  let  me  dress  up  those  untrimmed  locks."  Theo.  gave 
"  new  and  trimmed  ;"  and  Richardson  conjectures  "  entrimmed." 

212.  Faith.     "Your  pledged  faith  to  me"  (¥\.). 

222.  Bestow  yourself.     Behave  yourself,  conduct  yourself,  act.     Ci.  T. 

G.  of  V.  iii.  I.  87  : 

"How  and  which  way  I  may  bestow  myself, 
To  be  regarded  in  her  sun-bright  eye." 

See  also  A.  Y.  L.  iv.  3.  87. 

233.  But  ne7c>  before.     Only  just  before  it. 

235.  To  clap  this  royal  bargain  up.  Cf.  T.  of  S.  ii.  I.  327  :  "  Was  ever 
match  claijp'd  up  so  suddenly.'"  The  allusion  is  to  clapping  hands,  or 
joining  hands,  in  token  of  mutual  pledge  of  faith.     Ci.Hen.  V.  v.  2.  133  : 


156 


NOTES. 


"And  so  clap  hands,  and  a  bargain."     See  also  W.  Tip.  152,  note  on 
Clap  thyself  my  love. 
238.  Differt-nce.     See  on  ii.  i.  355  above. 

240.  Ill  both.  That  is,  in  both  their  bloody  hostility  and  their  new 
love. 

241.  Regreet.  Greeting,  salutation;  as  in  M.  of  V.  ii.  9.  89  :  "sensible 
regreets."     For  the  verb,  see  Rich.  II.  p.  162. 

242.  Fast  and  loose.  A  cheating  game  of  gypsies  and  other  vagrants. 
It  is  thus  described  by  Sir  J.  Hawkins  :  "A  leathern  belt  is  made  up 
into  a  number  of  intricate  folds  and  placed  edgewise  upon  a  table.  (Jne 
of  the  folds  is  made  to  represent  the  middle  of  the  girdle,  so  that  who- 
ever should  thrust  a  skewer  into  it  would  think  he  held  it  fast  to  the 
table ;  whereas,  when  he  has  so  done,  the  person  with  whom  he  plays 
may  take  hold  of  both  ends  and  draw  it  away."     Cf.  A.  and  C.  iv.  12.  28  : 

"  Like  a  right  gypsy,  hath,  at  fast  and  loose, 
Beguil'd  me  to  the  very  heart  of  loss." 

See  also  Z.  L.  L.  i.  2.  162  and  iii.  i.  104 ;  and  Drayton,  Mooncalf: 

"  He  like  a  gypsy  oftentimes  would  go  ; 
All  kinds  of  gibberish  he  hath  learn'd  to  know, 
And  with  a  stick,  a  short  string,  and  a  noose. 
Would  show  the  people  tricks  at  fast  and  loose." 

243.  Unconstant.  Inconstant,  fickle  ;  as  in  T.  of  S.  iv.  2.  14  and  Lear, 
i.  I.  304.  S.  more  commonly  uses  inconstant ;  as  in  A',  and  J.  i.  4.  100, 
ii.  2.  109,  iv.  I.  119,  etc.     See  on  infortunate,  ii.  i.  178  above.     Gr.  442. 

254.  Opposite.    Opposed,  antagonistic.     See  0th.  p.  160  or  T.  N.  p.  145. 

259.  Chafed.  Theobald's  correction  of  the  "cased"  of  the  folios. 
Pope  has  "  chased  "  and  Coll.  "  caged."  Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  iii.  2.  206  :  "  the 
chafed  lion  ;"  T.  of  S.  i.  2.  203  :  "an  angry  boar  chafed  with  sweat,"  etc. 
Fl.,  who  retains  "cased"  (=  "concealed"),  says  that  these  passages  are 
not  in  point,  as  S.  did  not  write  them. 

271.  Is  jiot  amiss,  &ic.  "Most,"  "yet,"  "but,"  "done,"  etc.,  have  been 
conjectured  for  not ;  but  the  passage  was  probably  intended  as  a  piece 
of  Jesuitical  sophistry.  Truly  done  is  explained  by  the  following  not 
done :  what  you  have  sworn  to  do  amiss  is  not  amiss  if  tridy  done  ;  but 
the  right  doing  of  what  is  wrong  is  not  to  do  it.  Fl.  explains  it  thus : 
"  to  do  amiss  (incompletely)  that  which  thou  hast  sworn  to  do,  is  not 
amiss  when  it  (your  course  of  proceeding)  is  truly  (honestly)  done." 

276.  Indirection.     See  on  indirectly,  ii.  i.  49  above. 

280.  Bitt  thou  hast  sworn,  etc.    The  passage  is  pointed  thus  in  the  folio  : 

"  It  is  religion  that  doth  make  vowes  kept. 
But  thou  hast  swome  against  religion : 
By  what  thou  swear'st  against  the  thing  thou  swear'st, 
And  mak'st  an  oath  the  suretie  for  thy  truth. 
Against  an  oath  the  truth,  thou  art  vnsure 
To  sweare,  sweares  onely  not  to  be  forsworne. 
Else  what  a  mockerie  should  it  be  to  sweare?" 

This  is  evidently  corrupt,  at  least  in  the  pointing ;  but  of  many  attempts 
to  mend  it  none  is  quite  satisfactory.  In  281  we  adopt  (as  Capell,  U., 
and   W.  do)  Johnson's   conjecture   of  which   for  "  what."      Hanmer's 


ACT  III.    SCENE  I. 


157 


"that"  is  nearer  to  the  original,  and  gives  the  same  meaning,  but  the 
relative  seems  better  on  the  whole.  Clarke  retains  "  what,"  explaining 
the  line  as  including  "the  double  interpretation  of  'by  swearing  to  that 
which  is  contrary  to  that  which  you  have  sworn,'  and  'in  swearing  by  re- 
ligion against  religion.'  "  The  truth  thou  art  unsure  to  swear,  etc.,  is  more 
perplexing.  K.  explains  it  thus  :  "  the  truth — that  is,  the  troth,  for  which 
you  have  made  an  oath  the  surety,  against  thy  former  oath  to  heaven — 
this  troth,  which  it  was  unsure  to  swear — which  you  violate  your  surety 
in  swearing — has  only  been  sworn — swears  only — not  to  be  forsw-orn  ; 
but  it  is  sworn  against  a  former  oath,  which  is  more  binding,  because  it 
was  an  oath  to  religion — to  the  principle  upon  which  all  oaths  are  made." 
Clarke  makes  thoic  art  unsure  to  swear  =  "  thou  art  hesitating  to  abide 
by."  He  adds:  "The  difficulty  and  obscurity  in  this  speech  chiefly 
arise  from  the  expressions  swear  and  swear''st  being  equally  used  for 
what  has  been  sworn  at  different  times  ;  or,  in  other  words,  'thy  later 
vows'  and  'thy  first:'  but  the  very  confusion  thus  produced  in  the  line 
of  argument  has  characteristic  effect."  Sr.  follows  Rowe  in  changing 
swears  in  284  to  "swear"  (imperative).  Schmidt  defines  unsure  as 
"  not  assured,  not  certainly  knowing."  Perhaps  the  meaning  is  :  the 
oath  you  thus  swear  with  no  good  assurance  that  you  ought  to  do  it. 
He  has  just  charged  the  king  with  giving  a  pledge  inconsistent  with  his 
former  pledge  to  the  Church  ;  and  this,  he  implies,  could  only  have  been 
done  from  imperfect  or  confused  notions  as  to  his  duty.  Swears  only 
not  to  befors%vorti  —  \'&  sworn  only  as  a  matter  of  form. 
Fl.  points  the  passage  as  follows  : 

"  But  thou  hast  sworn  against  religion. 
By  what  thou  swear" st  against,  tlie  tiling  thou  suear'st ; 
And  niakest  an  oath  the  surety  for  thy  truth. 
Against  an  oath,  the  truth  ;  thou  art  unsure. 
To  swear  swears  only  not  to  be  forsworn  ;"  etc. 

He  explains  it  thus  :  "  But  thou  hast  sworn  the  thing  thou  swear'st 
against  religion  (thy  vow  to  be  the  Church's  champion)  by  the  religion 
thou  swearest  against,  and  so  thou  givest,  as  pledge  of  thy  truth,  thy  last 
oath  in  opposition  to  thy  first  one,  which  was  in  its  own  nature  truth  it- 
self. Thou  art  untrustworthy,  unsafe.  Swearing  is  used  only  that  oaths 
may  be  kept."  On  unsure,  he  compares  ii.  i.  471  above  :  "unsur'd  assur- 
ance."    He  also  quotes  Edward  I.  ii.  i  (Shakespeare's  part  of  the  play) : 

"  Well  may  I  tempt  myself  to  wrong  myself. 
When  he  hath  sworn  me  by  the  name  ot'  God 
To  break  a  vow  made  in  the  name  of  God ; 
What  if  I  swear  by  this  right  hand  of  mine 
To  cut  this  right  hand  off?     The  better  way 
Were  to  profane  the  idol  than  confound  it." 

289.  7s.  The  subject  vo2us  is  plural,  but  the  verb  may  be  said  to  agree 
with  the  predicate  nominative  rebellion.  7>  =  towards,  against.  Cf.  Mueh 
Ado,  ii.  I.  244  :  "  a  quarrel  to  you,"  etc.     Gr.  187. 

294,  Vouchsafe  thc7n.  Condescend  to  accept  them.  Cf.  y.  C.  ii.  i.  313  : 
"Vouchsafe  good  morrow  from  a  feeble  tongue."  See  also  T.  of  A.  i.  i. 
152  and  Hen.  VIII.  ii.  3.  43. 


158  NOTES. 

295.  Light.  The  plural  is  to  be  explained  by  the  intervening  curses. 
Gr.  412. 

296.  As.     That.     Gr.  109. 

303.  Churlish  dritnis.  Cf.  ii.  i.  76  above,  and  V.  and  A.  107:  "his 
churlish  drum." 

304.  Measures.  Marching  music.  Fl.  explains  it  as  "solemn  dances  " 
(see  A.  Y.  L.  p.  197).     Cl.  the  old  play  : 

^^  Blanch.   And  will  your  grace  upon  your  wedding-day 
Forsake  your  bride,  and  follow  dreadful  drums? 
Nay,  good  my  lord,  stay  you  at  home  with  me. 

''''Lewis.  Sweetheart,  content  thee,  and  we  shall  agree. 

"  Philip.   Follow  me,  lords ;  Lord  Cardinal,  lead  the  way, 
Drums  shall  be  music  to  this  wedding-day." 

312.  Foretho7tght.  Ordained,  decreed.  Elsewhere  (in  i  Hen.  IV.  iii. 
2.  38  and  Cynib.  iii.  4.  171)  the  word  is  =  foresee,  anticipate. 

317.  Muse.     Wonder  ;  as  often  in  S.     Cf.  Cor.  iii.  2.  7  : 

"  I  muse  my  mother 
Does  not  approve  me  further,"  etc. 

See  also  Macb.  p.  219. 

318.  Respects.  Considerations,  motives;  as  in  v.  2.  44  and  v.  4.  41 
below. 

320.  Fall  front.  Cf.  3  Hen.  VI.  iii.  3.  209  :  "  He  's  very  likely  now  to 
fall  from  him,"  etc. 

337.  Lady,  7vith  me,  with  vie,  etc.  This  is  the  pointing  of  the  folio. 
Most  of  the  modern  eds.  follow  Capell  in  giving  "  Lady,  with  me  ;  [that  is, 
go  with  me]  with  me,"  etc.  Capell  also  changed  lies  to  "lives."  Fl. 
(who  prints  "  li'es  "  for  lives  in  the  next  line)  says  :  "  Lives  was  often  pro- 
nounced lees,  as  here  ;  so  that  lie  and  live  had  the  same  sound.  The  let- 
ter V  could  be  omitted  between  any  two  vowels.  Thus  in  Taucred  and 
Gismunda,  iii.  chor.,  lo'e  (love)  rhymes  to  07'erthrp7u,  and  in  Edward  III. 
gi'e  (give)  rhymes  to  buy ;  in  London  Prodigal,  ii.  I  mo'e  (move)  rhymes 
to  too.  Chapman  is  distinguished  from  all  other  dramatists  by  his  fre- 
quent adoption  of  this  pronunciation." 

339.  Puissance.  Armed  force  ;  as  in  Hen.  V.  prol.  25  and  ii.  2.  190, 
etc.  S.  makes  the  word  a  di-ssyllable  or  trisyllable,  as  suits  the  meas- 
ure. 

341.  Condition.  Quality ;  as  in  M.  of  V.  v.  i.  74 :  "  the  hot  condition 
of  their  blood,"  etc. 

Scene  II.  —  2.  Airy.  Theo.  adopted  Warburton's  conjecture  of 
"fiery;"  but  Percy  cited  in  support  oi  airy  Burton's  Anat.  of  Melan- 
choly:  "Aeriall  spirits  or  di veils  are  such  as  keep  quarter  most  part  in 
the  aire,  cause  many  tempests,  thunder  and  lightnings,  teare  oakes,  fire 
steeples,"  etc.  Henderson  adds  from  Nash's"  Pierce  Pennilesse :  "the 
spirits  of  the  aire  will  mixe  themselves  with  thunder  and  lightning,  and 
so  intect  the  clyme  where  they  raise  any  tempest,  that  sodainely  great 
mortal itie  shall  ensue  to  the  inhabitants." 

5.  Hubert.  Pope  inserts  "There"  and  Fl.  "Good"  before  Hubert. 
Theo.  changes  Philip  to  "  Richard." 


ACT  III.     SCENE  III.  159 

Make  uf.  Hurry  on,  go  along.  Cf.  i  Hoi.  IV.  v.  4.  5  :  "I  beseech 
your  majesty,  make  up  ;"  Id.  v.  4.  58  :   "  Make  up  to  Clifton,"  etc. 

Scene  III. — 2.  Cousin.     Used  familiarly  for  almost  any  kinsman  or 
kinswoman.     See  Hani.  p.  179  or  A.  Y.  L.  p.  147. 
8.  Set  at  liberty,  etc.     The  folio  reads  : 

"  imprisoned  aiigeJls 
Set  at  libertie:"  etc. 

The  transposition  was  suggested  by  Walker,  and  is  adopted  by  W.     For 
augels  see  on  ii.  i.  590  above. 

10.  N'ow.     Changed  by  Theo.  to  "war,"  and  by  Hanmer  to  "maw." 

11.  His.  Changed  by  Rowe  to  "its,"  to  which  it  is  equivalent.  See 
Gr.228. 

12.  Bell,  book,  and  candle.  A  popular  phrase  for  excommunication,  in 
the  ceremonial  of  which  a  bell  was  tolled,  a  service  read  from  a  book, 
and  three  candles  e.xtinguished  in  succession.  Fl.  quotes  Marlowe,  Dr. 
Faustiis : 

"  Bell,  book,  and  candle,  candle,  book,  and  bell, 
Forward  and  backward  to  curse  Faustus  to  hell ;" 

and  Bale's  Kynge  Johan : 

"  For  as  moch  as  kyng  Johan  doth  Holy  Church  ko  handle, 
Here  I  do  curse  hym  wyth  crosse,  boke,  bell,  and  candle,''  etc. 

26.    Time.     Pope's  correction  of  the  "tune"  of  the  folios. 

28.  What  good  respect,  etc.  How  great  a  regard  I  have  for  thee.  Cf. 
iii.  I.  58  above. 

29.  Bounden.  Used  again  in  A.  Y.  I.  i.  2.  298  :  "  I  rest  inuch  bound- 
en  to  you."     Cf.  Gr.  344. 

36.   Gawds.     Gawdy  or  garish  things.     Cf.  y^/.  A".  Z>.  p.  126. 

39.  Sojivd  on,  etc.  The  folio  reading.  Theo.  changed  on  to  "one," 
and  "reign,"  "ear,"  and  "car"  have  been  suggested  for  race.  "Ear" 
is  plausible,  but  no  change  is  absolutely  required.  "With  either  read- 
ing, dimusy,  logically,  though  not  grammatically,  belongs  to  night,  l^y  the 
usual  Shakespearian  inversion  ;  and  surely  the  clock  striking  twelve  may 
be  said  to  strike  on  into  the  course  or  current  of  the  slow  night"  (FL). 
Sr.  takes  it  to  be  a  bell  tolling  at  midnight  to  call  recluses  to  their  devo- 
tions. 

42.  Surly.  Gloomy;  as  in  Sonn.  71.  2  :  "the  surly  sullen  bell."  Cf. 
sullen  in  i.  i.  28  above. 

43.  Heavy-thick.  Pope's  emendation  of  the  "  heavy,  thick  "  of  the  fo- 
lios.    Gr.  2. 

44.  Tickling.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  tingling  ;"  but,  as  Clarke  remarks, 
the  change  "deprives  the  passage  of  the  connection  between  tickling  :ind 
laughter  which  was  evitlently  meant  by  the  poet." 

45.  A'ee/>.  Hold,  occujjy  (Schmidt).  Clarke  thinks  it  is  also  =  close, 
or  shut :  "  laughter  dwelling  in  men's  eyes,  and  causing  them  to  close, 
or  half  shut." 

48.  If  that.     For  that  as  a  "conjunctional  affix,"  see  Gr.  2S7. 

50.   Conceit.     Conception,  thought.     See  A.  Y.  L.  pp.  162  and  194. 


i6o  NOTES. 

52.  Brooded.  Brooding  ;  that  is,  vigilant  as  a  bird  on  its  nest.  Vo\>q 
changed  the  word  to  "broad-eyed  ;"  and  the  Coll.  MS.  has  "the  broad."' 
For  the  active  use  of  passive  participles,  see  Gr.  374. 

57.  Adjunct.     Cf.  R.of  L.  133  :  "Though  death  be  adjunct,"  etc. 

59.  Hubert,  Hubert,  Hubert.  "  How  the  impression  of  murderous  ea- 
gerness and  urgency  is  horribly  conveyed  by  the  reiterated  name,  gasped 
forth  with  a  mixture  of  stealth  and  vehemence — half  mean  dread,  half 
bloodthirsty  incitement !"  (Clarke). 

65.  Death.     See  p.  33  above. 

70.  Paiuers.  The  word  is  used  in  both  numbers  to  signify  an  army,  as 
force  still  is.     See  J.  C,  p.  168,  note  on  Are  levying  powers. 

Scene  IV.  —  2.  Armado.  Fleet  (the  Spanish  armada) ;  as  in  C.  of 
E.  iii.  2.  140  :  "  Spain,  who  sent  whole  armadoes  of  caracks,"  etc.  Con- 
victed—''' defeated,  overpowered"  (Schmidt).  "  Collected,"  "  convented," 
"connected,"  "convected,"  "consorted,"  and  "combined"  have  been 
proposed  as  emendations. 

8.  England.  That  is,  the  king  of  England.  See  Hen.  V.  p.  159  or 
Macb.  p.  239. 

11.  Advice.  "Deliberate  consideration"  (Schmidt)  ;  as  in  2  Hen.  VI. 
11.  2.  68:  i<  p^^^  jj^^j  ,g  j^jjj  suddenly  to  be  perform' d, 

But  with  advice  and  silent  secrecy." 

12.  So  fierce  a  cause.  So  impetuous  a  proceeding.  For  cause  Warb., 
Hanmer,  and  some  others  read  "course." 

19.  Prison.  Malone  compares  3  Hen.  VI. \\.  i.  74:  "Now  my  soul's 
palace  is  become  a  prison."     See  also  iv.  3.  136  below. 

23.  Defy.  Refuse,  spurn.  Cf.  i  Hen.  IV.  i.  3.  228  :  "  All  studies  here 
I  solemnly  defy,"  etc. 

29.  Detestable.  Regularly  accented  by  S.  on  the  first  syllable.  See 
R.  and  J.  p.  208,  or  Gr.  492. 

32.  This  gap  of  breath.     This  passage  of  my  breath,  or  my  mouth. 

35.  Buss.  Changed  by  Pope  to  "kiss."  The  word  had  not  become 
vulgar  in  the  time  of  S.  Cf.  T.  and  C.  iv.  5.  220  :  "  Yond  towers,  whose 
wanton  tops  do  buss  the  clouds."  The  noun  occurs  in  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4. 
291  :  "Thou  dost  give  me  flattering  busses."  Steevens  quotes  Drayton, 
Barons''  IVars :  "  And  we  by  signs  sent  many  a  secret  buss."  Cf.  Spen- 
ser, /".  Q.  iii.  10.  46  : 

"  But  every  Satyre  first  did  give  a  bus?e 
To  Hellenore ;  so  busses  did  abound." 

40.  That  fell  anatomy.  That  cruel  skeleton,  Death.  C(.  C.  0/ E.  v.  I. 
238:  "A  mere  anatomy."     See  also  T.  jV.  p.  149. 

42.  Modern.     Commonplace,  trite.     Cf.  3Iacb.  iv.  3.  170: 

"  Where  violent  sorrow  seems 
A  modem  ecstasy,"  etc. 

See  also  R.  and  J.  p.  188  or  A.  Y.  L.  p.  167.     The  Coll.  MS.  gives  "  wid- 
ow's" here,  and  K.  adopts  Heath's  conjecture  of  "mother's." 

44.  A'ot.  C)mitted  in  the  first  three  folios,  but  supplied  in  the  4th. 
Delius  and  St.  read  "unholy." 


ACT  in.    SCENE  IV.  i6l 

45.  I  am  not  mad,  etc.     See  p.  27  above. 

52.  Canoniz'd.  Acceuted  on  the  second  syllable,  as  in  iii.  i.  177  above. 
See  Gr.  491. 

58.  A  babe  of  clouts.     A  rag-baby. 

64.  Friends.     The  folios  have  "  fiends  ;"  corrected  by  Rowe. 

65.  Sociable.     A  quadrisyllable.     Gr.  479. 

(^.  Loves.    Lovers.    Cf.  35  above.    The  Coll.  MS.  has  "lovers"  here. 

68.  To  England,  if  yoji  will.  Malone  supposes  this  to  be  addressed 
to  the  absent  John,  and  =  "  Take  my  son  to  England."  St  takes  it  to  be 
an  apostrophe  to  her  hair.  Fl.  explains  it :  "  Say  this  fine  speech  about 
faithful  love,  etc.,  to  England,  that  is,  to  John."  Perhaps  Clarke  is  right 
in  considering  it  an  answer  to  what  Philip  has  said  in  20  above— "one 
of  those  incoherent,  but  wanderingly-connected  speeches  which  persons 
in  Constance's  condition  of  mind  (and  even  people  who  are  only  absent 
of  mind)  will  frequently  make."  He  adds:  "  It  appears  to  us  that  this 
interpretation  of  her  speech  adds  another  point  of  characteristic  delinea- 
tion to  the  many  admirable  touches  with  which  the  poet  has  drawn  a 
mind  bordering  on  frenzy  in  this  powerfully  affecting  scene." 

73.  Envy  at.     CC  Hen.  VIII.  v.  3. 1 12 : 

"  whose  honesty  the  devil 
And  his  disciples  only  envy  at." 

We  find  envy  against  in  Cor.  iii.  3.  95. 

76.  And,  father  cardinal,  etc.     See  p.  25  above. 

80.  Suspire.     Begin  to  breathe.     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  5.  33  : 

"  By  his  gates  of  breath 
There  lies  a  downy  feather  which  stirs  not; 

Did  he  suspire,  that  light  and  weightless  down  • 

Perforce  must  move." 

81.  Gracious.  Full  of  grace,  lovely;  as  ir.  96  below.  Cf.  T.  N.  \.  5. 
281 :  "A  gracious  person,"  etc. 

82.  Canker-sorrow.  Sorrow,  like  a  canker-worm.  See  M.  N.  D.  p. 
150,  note  on  Cankers. 

90.  You  hold  too  heinous  a  respect,  etc.  You  sin  in  thinking  too  much 
of  your  grief.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  I.  74:  "  You  have  too  much  respect  upon 
the  world." 

91.  He  talks,  etc     Cf.  Macb.  iv.  3.  216 :  "  He  has  no  children." 

96.  Remembers  me.  Reminds  me.  Cf.  Temp.  i.  2.  243  :  "  Let  me  re- 
member thee  what  thou  hast  promis"d,"  etc. 

99.  Had  you  such  loss,  etc  "This  is  a  sentiment  which  great  sorrow 
always  dictates.  Whoever  cannot  help  himself  casts  his  eyes  on  others 
for  assistance,  and  often  mistakes  their  inability  for  coldness"  (Johnson), 

lOl.    This  form.     Her  head-dress. 

106.  Outrage.  Outbreak  of  rage  or  madness.  QL  Rich.  III. \\.  ^^\: 
"  frantic  outrage,"  etc.     See  also  R.  and  J.  p.  217. 

1 10.  World's.  Pope's  correction  of  the  "  words  "  of  the  folios.  Fl. 
thinks  that  "word's"  may  refer  to  "the  tedious  tale  of  life." 

111.  IVkU.     6"^  that ;  as  often.     Cf.  151  below.     Gr.  283. 

115.  Sho7(j.  Seem,  appear;  as  in  V.  and  A.  1157:  "where  it  shows 
most  toward,"  etc 

L 


1 62  NOTES. 

125.  Youthful.     Cf.  145  below  :  "  How  green  you  are,"  etc. 
128.  Rub.     Obstacle  ;  a  metaphor  taken  from  the  game  of  bowls.    See 
Rich.  II.  p.  197. 

132.  Whiles.     Used  by  S.  interchangeably  with  ivhile.     Gr.  137. 

133.  Misplac'd.  That  is,  usurping;  wearing  a  "crown  so  foul  mis- 
plac'd  "  {Rich.  III.  iii.  2.  44). 

135.  Unruly.     Unlawful. 

136.  Boisterously.     Violently.     See  on  iv.  I.  95  below. 

1^6.  Lays  you  plots.  Lays  plots  for  you ;  the  "  dativus  ethicus."  Gr. 
220. 

147.  Ti'ue  blood.   "  The  blood  of  him  that  has  ihejtist  claim"  (Johnson). 

149.  Evilly.  Used  again  in  T.  of  A.  iv.  3.  467.  For  borit  the  ist  and 
2d  folios  have  "  borne,"  which  Clarke  thinks  may  possibly  be  right 
(^conducted). 

153.  Exhalation.  Meteor.  Cf.  i  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  352:  "My  lord,  do 
you  see  these  meteors.'  do  you  behold  these  exhalations.?"  See  also 
Hen.  VIII.  iii.  2.  226  and  J.  C.  ii.  i.  44. 

154.  Scope.  Free  play,  operation.  Pope  changed  the  word  to  "scape  " 
— "preposterously,"  according  to  Schmidt,  who  explains  no  scope  of  riat- 
iire  as  "no  effect  produced  within  the  regular  limits  of  nature."  K.,  the 
Camb.  ed.,  Clarke,  F"l.,  and  others  retain  scope ;  D.,  W.,  and  H.  adojH 
"  scape."  The  latter  is  obviously  wrong,  as  it  could  refer  only  to  a  prod- 
igy or  something  out  of  the  ordinary  course  of  nature ;  while  the  context 
enumerates  only  common  and  customed  phenomena,  which  the  people 
imagine  to  be  prodigies  and  signs. 

155.  Customed.  Not  " 'customed,"  as  sometimes  printed.  The  word 
occurs  again  in  2  Hen.  VI.  v.  i.  188 :  "customed  right." 

158.  Abortives.     Monstrosities;  the  only  instance  of  the  noun  in  S. 
161.  In  his prisoMuent.     In  keeping  him  in  prison. 

166.  Unacquainted.     Cf.  v.  2.  32  below  :  "  unacquainted  colours." 

167.  Strong  matter  of.     Good  cause  of,  powerful  reasons  for. 

1&9.  Hurly.  Tumult,  commotion.  <Zl.  T.of  S.\\.\.2o():  "amid  this 
burly,"  etc. 

174.  Call.     That  is,  a  bird-call,  the  reed  or  pipe  used  in  catching  birds. 

176.  As  a  little  snoiv,  etc.  "  Bacon,  in  his  Hist,  of  Hen.  VII.,  speaking 
of  Simnel's  march,  observes  that  'their  snow-ball  did  not  gather  as  it 
went ' "  (Johnson). 

179,  180.  The  folios  put  commas  at  the  end  of  both  lines.  Fl.  follows 
Rowe  in  putting  a  period  after  discontent,  and  a  comma  after  offence. 

182.  Strong  actions.  The  reading  of  the  later  folios  ;  the  1st  folio  has 
"strange  actions,"  which  may  be  what  S.  wrote. 


ACT  IV. 

Scene  I. — On  the  locality  of  the  scene,  see  on  i.  i.  i  above.  Accord- 
ing to  history,  Arthur  was  first  confined  at  Falaise,  and  afterwards  at 
Rouen,  where  he  died  or  was  murdered. 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  I.  163 

2.  Within  the  arras.  That  is,  between  the  tapestry  hangings  and  the 
wall ;  a  common  place  of  concealment.  See  M.  iV.  iii.  3.  97,  Much  Ado, 
i.  3.  63,  Ham.  ii.  2.  163,  iii.  3.  28,  iv.  i.  9,  etc. 

7.  Uncleanly.     Unbecoming. 

8.  To  say  with.     To  speak  with. 

15.  As  sad  as  night,  etc.  An  allusion  to  one  of  the  affectations  of  the 
day.  Steevens  quotes  Lyly,  Midas,  1592  :  "Melancholy!  is  melancholy 
a  word  for  a  barber's  mouth.'  Thou  shouldst  say  heavy,  dull,  and  dolt- 
ish ;  melancholy  is  the  crest  of  courtiers,  and  now  every  base  companion, 
&c.  says  he  is  melancholy  ;"  and  The  Life  and  Death  of  the  Lord  Crom- 
well, 1613 : 

"My  nobility  is  wonderful  melancholy. — 
Is  it  not  most  gentleman-like  to  be  melancholy?" 

16.  Christendom.    "Christianity"  (Schmidt) ;  "christening  or  baptism" 

(Clarke).     In  A.  IV.  i.  i.  18S,  it  is  =  Christian  name,  or  baptismal  name. 

Halliwell  quotes  Taylor,  IVorkes,  1630: 

"  A  halfe  piece,  or  a  crowne,  or  such  a  summe, 
Hath  forc'd  them  falsifie  their  Christendome." 

19.  Doubt.  Suspect,  fear ;  as  in  iv.  2.  102  and  v.  6.  44  below.  See 
also  Ham.  pp.  187,  202. 

20.  Practises.  Plots.  See  A.  V.  L.  p.  140.  Cf.  the  noun  in  iv.  3.  63 
below. 

25.  Prate.     Prattle. 

33.  Rheum.     Tears.     See  on  iii.  i.  22  above. 

34.  Dispiteous.     Pitiless  ;  used  by  S.  only  here. 

38.  Effect.     Import,  meaning.     Malone  conjectured  "  a  fact." 
42.  Handkercher.     The  spelling  of  the  folios,  as  in  most  other  places. 
See  A.  V.  L.  p.  190. 

if-j.  Still  and  anon.     Ever  and  anon.     For  j-//7/  =  ever,  see  Gr.  69. 

49.  Lffve.  Act  of  love,  kindness  ;  as  in  Per.  ii.  4.  49  :  "  But  if  I  can- 
not win  you  to  this  love,"  etc. 

50.  Lien.  The  folio  has  "  lyen."  In  Ham.  v.  i.  190,  the  quartos  have 
"lien,"  the  folios  "lain." 

52.  At  your  sick  service.     To  attend  you  when  sick. 

61.  Heat.  Elsewhere  in  S.  the  participle  is  heated.  Cf.  waft  in  ii.  i.  73 
above.     Gr.  342.     Heat  is  found  in  Dan.  iii.  19,  in  the  ed.  of  161 1. 

63.  His.  Capell's  emendation  of  the  "  this  "  of  the  folios.  The  latter, 
which  Clarke  and  Fl.  retain,  may  be  right  after  all. 

70.  The  folio  reads  :  "  I  would  not  haue  beleeu'd  him  :  no  tongue  but 
Huberts.'"  Pope  gave  "  believ'd  a  tongue  but  Hubert's."  K.  adopts  Stee- 
vens's  conjecture:  "believ'd  him  :  no  tongue  but  Hubert's — "  (the  sen- 
tence being  left  imperfect).  Steevens  afterwards  suggested  "  I  would  not 
have  believ'd  no  tongue  but  Hubert's ;"  which  is  on  the  whole  the  best 
emendation,  if  any  is  needed. 

78.  Heaven  sake.    Cf.  T.  N.  iii.  4.  326  :  "  oath  sake  ;"  see  our  ed.  p.  155. 

82.  Angerlv.  The  word  occurs  also  in  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  2.  62  and  Macb. 
iii.  5.  I.     S.  does  not  use  angrilv. 

92.  Mote.  The  folios  have  "'moth,"  which  was  pronounced  mote.  See 
A.  V.  L.  p.  179,  note  on  Goats;  and  cf.  Much  Ado,  p.  136,  note  on  Nothing. 


1 64  NOTES. 

95.  Boisterous.  The  word  (formerly  =  intractable,  violent)  has  come 
to  be  restricted  to  "loud  weather"  (W.  T.  iii.  3.  11)  and  like  noisy  dem- 
onstrations. We  can  no  longer  use  it  as  in  V.  and  A.  326  :  "  his  boister- 
ous and  unruly  beast"  (horse)  ;  or  as  in  A.  V.  L.  ii.  3.  32 :  "a  base  and 
boisterous  sword,"  etc. 

106.  The  fire  is  dead,  etc.  "  The  fire,  being  created  not  to  hurt,  but  to 
cotnfort,  is  dead  with  grief  for  finding  itself  iised  in  acts  of  cruelty,  which, 
being  innocent,  I  have  not  deserved'^  (Johnson).  On  extremes,  cf.  v.  7.  13 
below  :  "  fierce  extremes." 

117.  Tarre  him  on.     Set  him  on,  urge  him  on.     See  Ham.  p.  207. 

121.  Of  note.     Notorious,  distinguished. 

122.  Eye.     The  folio  reading  ;  changed  by  Steevens  to  "eyes." 

123.  Owes.     Owns.     See  on  ii.  i.  109  above. 

125.  This  same  very  iron.  Cf.  Jiich.  HI.  iii.  2.  49:  "this  same  very 
day,"  etc. 

130.  Doubtless  and  secure.  Free  from  fear  and  confident.  Cf.  i  Hen. 
IV.  iii.  2.  20 :  "I  am  doubtless  I  can  purge  Myself,"  etc.  On  secure,  cf. 
Ham.  p.  196. 

133.  Closely.  Secretly;  as  in  Hatn.  iii.  i.  29,  H,  and  J.  v.  3.  255,  etc. 
Cf.  close  in  iv.  2.  72  below. 

Scene  II. — i.  Once  again  croivii'd.  This  was  ihe  fourth  time  that 
John  was  crowned.  The  second  coronation  was  at  Canterbury  in  the 
year  1201.  He  was  crowned  again  at  the  same  place,  after  the  murder 
of  his  nephew,  in  April,  1202  ;  probably  with  a  view  of  confirming  his 
title  to  the  throne,  his  competitor  no  longer  standing  in  the  way  (Malone). 
,  4.  Once  superfluous.  That  is,  once  too  many. 
10.  Guard.     Ornament,  as  with  trimmings.     Cf.  M.  ofV.  ii.  2. 164  : 

"  Give  him  a  livery 
More  guarded  than  his  fellows';  see  it  done;" 

Hen.  VIII.  prol.  16 :  "  In  a  long  motley  coat  guarded  with  yellow,"  etc. 
See  also  Much  Ado,  p.  124. 

18.  An  ancient  tale  new-told.  Cf.  iii.  4.  108  above  :  "as  tedious  as  a 
twice-told  tale." 

21.  Antique.  The  regular  accent  in  S.  See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  152  or  Macb. 
p.  234. 

24.  To  fetch  about.  To  "come  about,"  as  the  nautical  term  now  is; 
to  veer  round. 

29.  Covetousness.  Eagerness.  Confound=dtitroy,  ruin  ;  as  in  v.  7. 
58  below. 

38.  Since  all,  etc.  That  is,  since  we  make  our  preferences  yield  in  all 
cases  to  your  will. 

41.  Possessed  yott  with.  Informed  you  of.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  3.  65,  iv.  i. 
35,  Cor.  ii.  I.  145,  etc. 

42.  When  lesser,  etc.  The  folio  has  "  then  lesser,"  etc.  When  is  Tyr- 
whitt's  conjecture,  and  is  adopted  by  D.,  K.,  St.,  Clarke,  Fl.,  and  others. 
Pope  has  "the  lesser,"  and  W.  "than  lesser."  The  Coll.  MS.  gives 
"  thus  lessening  my  fear."  For  more,  more  strong,  cf.  Cor.  iv.  6.  63  and 
Lear,  V.  3.  202. 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  II.  165 

43.  Indue.     Supply,  furnish. 

48.  To  sound.  To  give  j-t'/zW  or  utterance  to.  Cf.  A'/r/^ //.  iii.  4.  74  : 
"  How  dares  tliy  liarsh  rude  tongue  sound  this  unpleasing  news?" 

50.  Myself  and  them.  The  grammatical  error  is  probably  due  in  part 
to  the  occurrence  of  the  same  combination  in  the  preceding  line,  and  in 
part  to  the  more  frequent  association  oi  them  than  they  with  myself. 

55.  In  rest.  Either=in  possession,  as  Clarke  explains  it ;  or  in  re- 
pose, in  peace,  as  Schmidt  and  Fl.  give  it.  Possibly  both  ideas  are  com- 
bined. 

56.  Whv  then,  etc.  Pope  transposed  then  and  should,  to  give  the  ques- 
tion the  ordinary  direct  form  ;  but  the  question  may  be  considered  as  in- 
direct, or  perhaps  as  a  confusion  of  the  two  constructions. 

57.  Me%v  up.     Shut  up.     See  M.  N.  D.  p.  126. 

64.  Goods.  Abstract  nouns  are  often  thus  used  in  the  plural.  See 
Macb.  p.  209  (note  on  Loz>es),  Rich.  II.  p.  206  (on  Sights),  or  W.  T.  p.  167 
(on  Peaces). 

69.  Should  do.  Who  was  to  do.  For  the  ellipsis  of  the  relative,  see 
Gr.  244  ;  and  for  j/^w/A/^was  to,  Gr.  324. 

72.  Close  aspect.  Reserved,  secretive  look.  For  the  accent  of  aspect, 
see  on  ii.  i.  250  above. 

77.  Between  his  purpose.  That  is,  showing  a  conflict  in  his  mind  be- 
tween \\\%  purpose  of  killing  Arthur  and  his  conscience.     Cf.  247  below. 

78.  Set.  Appointed,  posted  (Schmidt).  Theo.  changed  the  word  to 
"  sent."  Mr.  Arrowsmith  would  refer  set  to  battles,  but  that  is  hardly  ad- 
missible. 

"  It  is  worthy  of  notice  how  in  this  speech,  and  in  the  beautiful  one 
commencing  with  9  above,  Salisbury  maintains  that  characteristic  refine- 
ment and  poetry  of  diction  which  distinguish  him  in  contrast  with  Pem- 
broke" (Clarke). 

89.  Here  or  hence.     See  on  v.  4.  29  below. 

93.  Fmd  play.     Fl.  joins  the  words  with  a  hyphen,  on  account  of  the 
accent ;  so  "fair-play"  in  v.  i.  67  and  v.  2.  118  below.     Apparent— g\\- 
dent,  obvious  ;  as  often.     Cf.  M.for  M.  iv.  2. 144  : 
'^ Duke.   It  is  now  apparent? 
"  Provost.  Most  manifest,  and  not  denied  by  himself." 

See  also  Rich.  II.  p.  150. 

99.  Owed.  Was  the  right  owner  of.  See  on  ii.  I.  109  above,  and  cf. 
iv.  I.  123. 

100.  Foot.     For  the  plural,  ci.  pound  m  i.  i.  69  above. 

Bad  world  the  while  !  A  bad  world  nowadays  !  Cf  I  Hen.  IV.\\.  4. 
146  :  "  God  help  the  while  !  a  bad  world,  I  say  ;"  and  Rich.  III.  iii.  6. 
10 :  "  Here  's  a  good  world  the  while  !" 

102.  Doubt.     Suspect,  fear ;  as  in  iv.  1. 19  above. 

106.  Fearful.  Full  of  fear;  as  in  191  below.  Cf.  J.  C.  p.  175.  On 
the  passage,  cf.  Alacb.  v.  3.  1 1, 14. 

1 10.  From  France  to  England.  "  The  king  asks  Atna  all  goes  in 
France  ;  the  messenger  catches  the  word  goes,  and  answers  that  whatever 
is  in  France ^^(VJ-  now  into  England'"  (Johnson). 

116.   O,  where,  etc.     Cf.  Macb.  i.j.  2S'- 


1 66  NOTES. 

"  Was  the  hope  drunk 
Wherein  you  dress'd  yourself?  hath  it  s'ept  since?" 

117.  Care.  In  the  ist  folio  the  first  letter  of  the  word  is  broken,  and 
may  be  either  an  ^  or  a  r;  the  later  folios  have  "care."  Some  editors 
read  "  ear  "  on  account  of  the  ear  in  the  answer ;  but,  as  Clarke  remarks, 
that  word  is  sufficiently  suggested  by  the  king's  '■^  hear  of  it,"  and  care 
accords  better  with  the  preceding  intelligence. 

118.  Drawn.     Drawn  together,  levied  ;  as  in  v.  2.  113  below. 

120.  Constance  died  in  1201  at  Nantes  (see  p.  21  above) ;  Elinor  in 
1204  (Mrs.  Jameson  and  some  other  authorities  say  1203)  at  Fontevreaux. 

124.  Idly.     Incidentally,  casually  ;  explained  by  the  context. 

125.  Occasio7i.  Fortune  ;  as  in  Ham.  i.  3.  54  :  "  Occasion  smiles  upon 
a  second  leave,"  etc.  The  word  is  a  quadrisyllable  here  ;  a  metrical  li- 
cense very  common  in  this  play.  Ci. ^Preparation  in  iii  above,  and  see 
173,  184,  191,  and  218  below. 

12?>.  l^Valks.  Goes.  As  Schmidt  remarks,  the  verb  is  "much  oftener 
used  in  S.  than  in  modern  language  =  to  go,  move,  and  even  =  come." 

135.  Afeard.  Used  by  S.  interchangeably  with  afraid.  See  M.  N.  D. 
p.  156  or  Macb.  p.  163. 

137.  Amaz'd.     Confused,  bewildered  ;  as  in  ii.  i.  356  above. 

139.  Aloft.     The  only  instance  of  the  prepositional  use  in  S. 

141.  Sped.     Fared,  succeeded.     Cf.  M.  W.  ii.  2.  278,  iii.  5.  137. 

144.  Strangely  fantasied.  Filled  with  strange  fancies;  the  only  in- 
stance oi fintasied  in  S. 

145.  Pomfret.  A  town  in  the  West  Riding  of  Yorkshire.  See  Rich. 
II.  p.  208. 

In  the  old  play  there  is  a  scene  between  the  prophet  and  the  people, 
and  another  of  the  Bastard  plundering  the  abbeys,  both  of  them  poor 
and  coarse,  and  judiciously  omitted  by  S.     See  pp.  11  and  12  above. 

158.  Safety.  Safe  keeping,  custody  ;  as  in  R.  and  J.  v.  3.  183  :  "  Hold 
him  in  safety." 

^\{\?,  prophet,  "  Peter  of  Pomfret,"  although  his  prediction  was  fulfilled 
(see  v.  I.  25  below),  did  not  escape  the  penalty  pronounced  by  the  king, 
but  after  being  dragged  through  the  streets  by  horses  was  hanged  upon 
a  gibbet  (Douce). 

165.  Whom.  For  the  "confusion  of  construction"  (Gr.  410),  cf.  Temp. 
iii.  3. 92  :  "  Young  Ferdinand  whom  they  suppose  is  drown'd  ;"  Cor.  iv. 
2.  2 :  "The  nobility  are  vex'd,  whom  we  see  have  sided,"  etc. 

177.  Sprightfiil.  Full  of  spirit.  It  is  used  by  S.  only  here,  but  we 
have  sprightftilly  in  a  similar  sense  in  Rich.  II.  i.  3.  3. 

182.  Five  moons.  This  phenomenon  is  mentioned  by  some  of  the 
chroniclers  and  also  in  the  old  play,  where  the  five  moons  appear  visibly 
and  the  Bastard  says  : 

"  See,  my  lord,  strange  apparitions. 
Glauncmg  mine  eye  to  see  the  diadem 
Plac'd  by  the  bishops  on  your  highness  head. 
Forth  from  a  gloomy  cloud,  which,  curtain-like, 
Display'd  itself,  I  suddenly  espied 
Five  moons  reflecting,  as  you  see  them  now,''  etc. 

To-night— \zst  night ;  as  often.     See  R.  and  y.  p.  155. 


ACT  IV.    SCENE  IL  167 

185.  Beldams.  Old  women,  hags  ;  a  curious  corruption  (or  ironical 
use  ?)  of  the  Fr.  belle  dame,  fair  lady.  Cf.  Macb.  iii.  5.  2  :  "  beldams  as 
you  are,"  etc.  Spenser  uses  the  word  in  its  original  sense  ;  as  in  F.  Q. 
iii.  2.  43  :  "  Beldame,  your  words  doe  worke  me  Title  ease,"  etc. 

198.  Contrary  feet.  The  mutations  of  fashion  are  well  illustrated  by 
the  fact  that  this  passage  perplexed  the  commentators  of  the  last  centu- 
ry. Johnson  says  :  "  Shakespeare  seems  to  have  confounded  the  man's 
shoes  with  his  gloves.  He  that  is  frighted  or  hurried  may  put  his  hand 
into  the  wrong  glove,  but  either  shoe  will  equally  admit  either  foot." 
Farmer,  Steevens,  and  Malone  fill  a  page  of  the  Var.  of  1821  to  show 
that  in  earlier  times  shoes  were  made  "rights  and  lefts."  Thus  Scot,  in 
his  Discoverie  of  Witchcraft,  says  :  "  He  that  receiveth  a  mischance,  will 
consider,  whether  he  put  not  on  his  shirt  wrongside  outwards,  or  his  left 
shoe  on  his  right  foot,"  etc.  Boswell  remarks  :  "  What  has  called  forth 
the  antiquarian  knowledge  of  so  many  learned  commentators  is  again 
become  the  common  practice  at  this  day."  Cf.  T.  G.  ofV.  ii.  3.  16 :  "  this 
left  shoe." 

Contrary  is  commonly  accented  by  S.  on  the  first  syllable ;  but  on  the 
second,  as  here,  in  T.  of  A.  iv.  3.  144  and  Ham.  iii.  2.  221.  Cf.  IV.  T.  p. 
208. 

199.  A  many.  Cf  Hen.  V.  iii.  7.  79  :  "  you  bear  a  many  superfluously ;" 
and  see  our  ed.  p.  170. 

200.  Embatlailed.  Embattled;  the  spelling  of  the  early  eds.,  to  be 
preserved  here,  as  the  word  is  a  quadrisyllable.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  ii.  14: 
"The  English  are  embattled,  you  French  peers,"  etc. 

207.  No  had.  Changed  by  Rowe  to  "Had  none,"  and  by  K.  to 
"None  had;"  but  the  idiom  is  found  elsewhere.  Arrowsmith  {N.and 
Q.  i.  7.  p.  521)  cites  Dekker,  Fortnnattis :  "  No  does  .''"  Foxe,  Alartyrs : 
"  No  did  ?"  etc.  Fl.  adds  Lodge,  Mar  ins  and  Sylla,  iv,  i  :  "  No  relent  V 
and  St.  gives  an  example  of  A'i:'  had  from  a  letter  of  Sir  Thomas  More. 

214.  More  upon  humour,  etc.  More  on  account  of  mere  caprice  than 
from  deliberate  consideration.  For  upon  cf.  ii.  i.  597  above :  "  upon 
commodity ;"  and  see  Gr.  191.  For  advised,  see  M.  of  V.  p.  130  or  Rich. 
II.  p.  165  ;  and  for  respect,  on  iii.  4.  90  above. 

220.  Make  deeds  ill  done.  Capell  transposed  deeds  and  ill,  and  is  fol- 
lowed by  K.,  Clarke,  and  some  other  editors.  Theo.  changed  make  to 
"makes;"  but  the  plural  is  to  be  explained  by  the  proximity  of  deeds. 
Cf.  iii.  I.  295  above.     Gr.  412. 

Hadst  is  apparently  a  dissyllable  here.  Capell  prints  "  Hadest ;" 
Pope  has  "  for  hadst." 

222.  Quoted.  Noted,  set  down  ;  as  in  A.  W.  v.  3.  205  ;  "  He  's  quoted 
for  a  most  perfidious  slave,"  etc. 

224.  Aspect.     For  the  accent,  see  on  72  above. 

226.  Liable.  Suitable,  fit ;  as  in  L.  L.  L.  v.  i.  97 :  "  The  posterior  of 
the  day,  most  generous  sir,  is  liable,  congruent,  and  measurable  for  the 
afternoon  :  the  word  is  well  culled,"  etc. 

227.  Broke  with  thee.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  i.  I.  311:  "I  will  break  with 
her  "  (see  also  328) ;  Id.  i.  2.  16  :  "  break  with  you  of  it,"  etc.  In  Id.  ii. 
I.  162  and  iii.  2.  76,  we  find  "  break  with  him  about,"  etc. 


1 68  NOTES. 

229.  Made  it  no  conscience.     Had  no  scruples.     Q{.  Hen.VIII.s.T^.d"]: 

"That  I  shall  clear  myself, 
Lay  all  the  weight  ye  can  upon  my  patience, 
I  make  as  little  doubt  as  you  do  conscience 
.       ■  In  doing  daily  wrongs." 

231.  Hadst  thou,  etc.  Johnson  observes :  "  There  are  many  touches 
of  nature  in  this  conference  of  John  with  Hubert.  A  man  engaged  in 
wickedness  would  keep  the  profit  to  himself,  and  transfer  the  guilt  to  his 
accomplice.  These  reproaches,  vented  against  Hubert,  are  not  the  words 
of  art  or  policy,  but  the  eruptions  of  a  mind  swelling  with  consciousness 
of  a  crime,  and  desirous  of  discharging  its  misery  on  another.  This  ac- 
count of  the  timidity  of  guilt  is  drawn  ab  ipsis  recessibus  mentis,  from  the 
intimate  knowledge  of  mankind,  particularly  that  line  in  which  he  says 
that  to  have  bid  him  tell  his  tale  in  express  words  would  have  strzick  him 
dumb  ;  nothing  is  more  certain  than  that  bad  men  use  all  the  arts  of  fal- 
lacy upon  themselves,  palliate  their  actions  to  their  own  minds  by  gentle 
terms,  and  hide  themselves  from  their  own  detection  in  ambiguities  and 
subterfuges." 

.  234,  As  bid.  That  is,  as  if  to  bid  or  prompt.  Pope  changed  As  to 
"Or,"  and  Malone  to  "And."     Cf  Gr.  107. 

245.  Fleshly.     Corporeal;  used  by  S.  only  here.     On  the  passage,  cf. 

7.  C.  ii.  I.  68 :  >.  ,v,     ,  ,      . 

•'  -  the  state  of  man. 

Like  to  a  little  kingdom,  suffers  then 

The  nature  of  an  insurrection  ;" 

and  see  also  2  Hen.  IV.  iv.  3.  118,  T.  and  C.  ii.  3.  185,  and  Macb.  \.  3. 140. 
255.  Motion.     Impulse;  as  in  y.  C  ii.  I.  64  : 

"  Between  the  acting  of  a  dreadful  thing 
.  And  the  first  motion,"  etc. 

See  also  i.  i.  212  above. 

264.  Feature.     For  the  singular,  cf  ii.  i.  126  above. 

265.  Foul  imaginary  eyes  of  blood.  "  The  sanguinary  eyes  of  my  imag- 
ination" (SchiTiidt). 

268.  Expedient.     Expeditious,  swift ;  as  in  ii.  i.  60,  223  above. 

269.  Conjure.  S.  accents  the  word  on  either  syllable  without  regard 
to  the  meaning.     See  AT.  A''.  D.  p.  164. 

.  The  old  play  is  divided  into  two  parts,  the  first  of  which  ends  with  the 
king's  sending  Hubert  on  this  errand;  the  second  begins  with  ^^ Enter 
Arthur,''  etc.,  as  in  the  next  scene. 

.  Scene  111.^3.  There  V.  Cf  Cymb.  iv.  2.  371  :  "There  is  no  more 
such  masters,"  etc.     Gr.  335. 

10.  Heaven  take  my  soul,  etc.  S.  here  follows  the  old  play.  The  fate 
of  Arthur  is  not  certainly  known.  Matthew  Paris,  relating  the  event, 
uses  the  word  evanuit  (he  disappeared)  ;  and  the  business  was  doubtless 
managed  with  great  secrecy.  The  French  historians  say  that  John,  com- 
ing in  a  boat  at  night  to  the  castle  of  Rouen,  where  Arthur  was  confined, 
ordered  him  to  be  brought  forth,  and  having  stabbed  him,  fastened  a 
stone  to  the  dead. body  and  thi'ew  it  into  the  Seine,in  order  to  giv€  some- 


ACT  IV.     SCENE  III. 


169 


colour  to  the  report,  which  he  afterwards  caused  to  be  spread,  that  the 
jjrince,  attempting  to  escape  by  a  window,  fell  into  the  river  and  was 
drowned  (Malone), 

II.  Saint  Edimindsbtiry.     See  on  v.  4.  18  below. 

i6.  Private  with  mc.  That  is,  private  or  personal  communication  to 
me.  For  with  nu  the  Coll.  MS. gives  "missive,"  and  Spedding  conject- 
ures "witness." 

20.  Or  ere.  A  reduplication,  the  or  being=before.  Cf.  v.  6.  44  beiow, 
and  see  Temp.  p.  112. 

21.  Disteinpey'd.     Disaffected.     See  Ham.  p.  229. 

,  24.  Thin.  The  Coll.  MS.  gives  "sin  ;"  but,  as  Clarke  remarks,  ////'« 
"exactly  agrees  with  the  metaphor  implied  in  line.'''' 

29.  Griefs.  Grievances  ;  as  in  J.  C.  i.  3.  I18,  iv.  2.  42,  etc.  J\eason= 
speak  ;  as  in  M.  of  V.  ii.  8.  27  :  "I  reason'd  with  a  Frenchman  yester- 
day," etc. 

34.  What  is  he  lies  here  ?  That  is.  7uho  is  he  that  lies  here  ?  For  what 
T=who.  cf.  ii.  I.  134  above  ;   and  for  the  ellipsis,  Gr.  244. 

41.  Have ypii,  tic.  The  ist  and  2d  folios  have  "You  have,"  which 
Fl.  retains. 

44.   That.     Changed  by  Pope  to  "What." 

48.  Savagery.  Atrocity.  \\\  Hen.  V.\.  2.  47  ("deracinate  such  sav- 
agery") it  is=wild  growth. 

49.  IVall-eyed.  "Fierce-eyed"  (Schmidt);  perhaps  simply=with  per- 
verted or  unnatural  vision.     See  \Vb.  s.  v. 

50.  Remorse.     Pity  ;  as  in  1 10  below  and  ii.  i.  478  above. 

54.  Sift  of  times.  That  is,  of  the  times,  of  the  age.  Some  editors 
adopt  Pope's  "sins  of  time." 

56.  Exanipled  by.     Cf.  T.  and  C.  i.  3. 132  : 

"so  every  step, 
Exampled  by  the  first  pace,"  etc. 

_-  63.  Practice.     Plotting.     See  on  iv.  i.  20  above,  or  A.  Y.  L.  p.  156. 

64.  \VJiose.     Of  whom;  the  "  objective  genitive." 

71.  Head.  Farmer's  emendation  of  the  "  hand  "  of  the  folios.  Fl.  re- 
tains "hand,"  because  in  the  early  Christian  iconography  a  hand  was 
sometimes  surrounded  by  a  nimbus.  Clarke  thinks  that  "the  vow  to 
dedicate  his  own  hand  to  the  service  of  winning  glory  by  attaining  ven- 
geance, and  giving  it  the  honour  or  worsltip  of  having  fulfilled  a  so- 
esteemed  sacred  duty,  is  perfectly  consistent  with  one  of  the  practices 
of  chivalrous  times  ;"  but  this  explanation  seems  a  little  forced. 

Giving  it  the  worship  of  reve7tge=^'  ennobling  it  by  revenge  "  (Schmidt). 

79.  Your  s7vord  is  bright,  etc.  Cf  0th.  i.  2.  59  :  "  Keepup  your  bright 
swords,  for  the  dew  will  rust  them."  Here,  as  there,  the  expressioii  is 
contemptuous. 

84.    Trite.     Rightful,  just. 

87.  Dunghill.  For  the  personal  use,  cf.  Lear,  iv.  6.  249  :  "  Out,  dung- 
hill !" 

91.  Yet.  As  yet,  up  to  this  time.  For  its  use  before  a  negative,  see 
Ji.  and  y.  p.  165,  or  Gr.  76. 


170  NOTES. 

94.  Stand  by.  Stand  back;  as  in  Muck  Ado,  iv.  i.  24,  T.  of  S.  i.  2. 
143,  etc. 

95.  Thou  wert  better.  It  were  better  for  thee.  So  "  you  were  best ;" 
as  in  M.  of  V.  ii.  8.  33,  etc.     See  Gr.  352. 

97.  Spleen.     See  on  ii.  i.  68  above. 

99.  Toasting-iron.  Contemptuous  for  sword.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  ii.  I.  9  :  "I 
will  wink  and  hold  out  mine  iron  :  ...  it  will  toast  cheese,"  etc.  Stee- 
vens  cites  Fletcher,  Woman's  Prize:  "dart  ladles,  toasting-irons,"  etc. 

104.  Hour.     A  dissyllable,  as  often.     Gr.  480. 

108.  Rheum.     See  on  iii.  i.  22  above. 

109.  Traded.  "Professional"  (Schmidt).  Traded  in  ;V=  expert  in 
it,  as  if  it  were  his  trade.  Cf.  T.  and  C.  ii.  2.  64 :  "  Two  traded  pilots," 
etc. 

no.  Remorse.     See  on  50  above. 

116.  Here'' s  a  good  world  !  \xon\C3.\=bad  world  the  while  !  m'w.  2.  100 
above. 

121.  Datnii'd  as  black.  St.  remarks;  "  S.  had  here  probably  in  his 
mind  the  old  religious  plays  of  Coventry,  some  of  which  in  his  boyhood 
he  might  have  seen,  wherein  the  damned  souls  had  their  faces  black- 
ened." Sharp,  in  his  account  of  these  performances,  says  that  there  were 
uniformly  three  white  and  three  black  souls.  He  quotes  the  following 
ancient  bill  in  this  connection  : 

"  Itni  payd  to  iij  whyte  sollys  vs 

Itm  payd  to  iij  blake  sollys  vs 

Itm  for  makyng  and  mendynge  of  the  blakke  soules  hose     vjd 
p'd  for  blakyng  the  sollys  fassys  — " 

126.  Do  but  despair.     Do  nothing  but  despair,  only  despair. 

133.  Up.     Used  intensively,  as  often  by  S.     See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  155. 

137.  Embounded.  Bounded,  enclosed ;  used  by  S.  only  here.  For  the 
prefix  en-,  see  Gr.  440. 

140.  Amaz'd.     See  on  iv.  2.  137  above. 

142.  Easy.  Easily;  as  very  often.  Cf.  Sonn.  109.  3,  M.  N.  D.  v.  r. 
22,  Macb.  ii.  3.  143,  v.  8.  9,  etc. 

146.  Scamble.  Scramble,  struggle.  See  Hen.  V.  p.  144  or  Much  Ado, 
p.  164. 

147.  Unowed.  Unowned,  or  without  rightful  owner.  Cf  owe  in  ii.  i. 
109  above.  "  In  this  hour  of  ripened  moral  perception,  the  speaker  suf- 
fers himself  to  confess  that  the  only  rightful  possessor  of  England  is  gone, 
and  that  John  is  but  possessor  by  tenure  of  usurpation  and  wrong ;  nev- 
ertheless, Philip's  sense  of  fidelity  and  personal  gratitude  to  the  present 
occupier  of  the  throne  will  not  let  him  abandon  him  or  his  cause,  es- 
pecially now  that  they  are  in  jeopardy  and  peril "  (Clarke). 

151.  From  home.     Away  from  home,  abroad. 

152.  Waits.  Clarke  says  that  the  on  of  the  next  line  is  "understood" 
with  waits  ;  but  this  is  not  absolutely  necessary.  The  verb  may  be  tran- 
sitive (as  in  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  63,  etc.),  and  the  on  may  be  inserted  for  the 
measure  or  on  account  of  the  omission  of  the  verb. 

On  the  passage,  cf  J.  C.  v.  i.  85  fol. 

154.  Wrested.     Wrested  from  its  rightful  owner,  usurped.     Schmidt 


ACT  V.     SCENE  I. 


171 


thinks  it  may  be  a  misprint  for  "wretched;"  and  the  Camb.  ed.  gives 
the  anonymous  conjecture  "  wasted." 

155.  Cincture.  Girdle;  Pope's  correction  of  the  "center  "  of  the  folios. 
Clarke  suggests  that  the  latter  may  have  been  in  familiar  use  as  a  cor- 
ruption of  the  Fr.  ceinture. 

158.  Businesses.  S.  uses  the  plural  no  less  than  six  times.  Cf,  A.  W. 
i.  I.  220,  iii.  7.  5,  iv.  3.  98,  W.  T.  iv.  2.  15,  and  Lear,  ii.  i.  129. 

Are  brief  in  /ianJ="  must  be  speedily  dispatched"  (Schmidt). 


ACT  V. 

Scene  I. — 2.  Circle.  Diadem;  as  in  A.  and C.  iii.  12.  18:  "The  circle 
of  the  Ptolemies."     Cf.  round  in  Macb.  i.  2.  59  and  iv.  i.  88. 

Take  again.  Take  it  again.  Some  make  greatness  and  authority  the 
object,  inserting  a  c<inini;i  aher pofe. 

6.  And  from  his  holiness,  etc.  And  use  all  your  power  from  his  holi- 
ness.    Cf.  Or.  419^. 

7.  Infiam'd.     Burned  up,  destroyed. 

8.  Counties.  Some  take  the  word  to  be  =  counts,  nobles  (see  Much 
Ado,  p.  131) ;  but  it  may  have  its  ordinary  sense,  as  Schmidt  explains  it. 

12.  Mistemper'd.  Distempered  (see  on  iv.  3.  21  above),  disaffected. 
See  A*,  and  y.  p.  142. 

13.  Qualified.  Moderated,  abated  ;  as  in  R.  of  L.  424,  Ham.  iv.  7.  1 14, 
etc. 

14.  The  present  time  'j  so  sick,  etc.  For  the  metaphor,  cf.  Macb.  v.  2. 
27.     See  also  v.  2.  20  below. 

19.  Convertite.  Convert  or  penitent ;  as  vcv  R,  of  L.  743  and  A.  V.  L. 
V.  4.  190. 

25.  /s  this  Ascension-day  ?    See  on  p.  34  above. 

27.  Give  off.     Give  up  ;  the  only  instance  of  the  expression  in  S. 

31.  Dover  Castle.  Hubert  de  Burgh  with  a  hundred  and  forty  soldiers 
defended  it  for  four  months  (French). 

35.  Amazement.  Confusion,  bewilderment.  Cf.  the  verb  in  iv.  2.  137 
and  iv.  3.  140  above. 

54.  Glister.  Glisten  (not  used  by  S.).  Cf.  M.  of.  V.  ii.  7.  65:  "All 
that  glisters  is  not  gold,"  etc. 

55.  Become.     Adorn  ;  as  in  ii.  1. 141  above. 

59.  Forage.    Go  forth  in  search  of  prey.     Cf.  I/en.  V.  i.  2.  1 10  : 

"Whiles  his  most  mighty  father  on  a  hill 
Stood  smiling  to  behold  his  lion's  whelp 
Forage  in  blood  of  French  nobility." 

See  also  the  noun  in  L.  L.  L.  iv.  i.  93  :  "And  he  [the  lion]  from  forage 
will  incline  to  play."    Fl.  quotes  Edward  III.  ii.  i  (Shakespeare's  part)  : 

"The  lion  doth  become  his  bloody  jaws, 
And  grace  his  for.igement  by  being  wild, 
When  vassals  fear  his  trembling  at  their  feet ;" 

and  Chapman,  Bussy's  Revenge:  "Lions  foraging  for  prey." 


172 


NOTES. 


60.  Displeasure.  Often  used  by  S.  in  a  stronger  sense  than  now ;  as 
in  Much  Ado,  i.  3.  68,  ii.  2.  6,  Ccn-.  iv.  5.  78,  Lear,  i.  i.  202,  iii.  3.  5,  etc. 

66.  Upo7i  the  footing  of  otir  laud.     Standing  upon  our  own  land. 

67.  Orders.  Sr.  adopts  the  "  offers  "  of  the  Coll.  MS.  But  orders,  from 
meaning  orderings,  arrangements,  may  come  to  be=stipulations,  condi- 
tions.    Cf.  V.  2.  4  below. 

69.  Invasive.     Invading  ;  used  by  S.  only  here. 

70.  Cocker' d.  Pampered ;  used  by  S.  nowhere  else.  For  the  mascu- 
line use  of  wanton,  cf.  Rich.  II.  v.  3.  10  and  Ham.  v.  2.  310. 

71.  Flesh  his  spirit.  "  Taste  blood  for  the  first  time  "  (Fl.).  Cf.  i  Hen. 
IV.  V.  4-  133  : 

"Come,  brother  John;  full  bravely  hast  thou  flesh'd 
Thy  maiden  sword;" 

I  Hen.  VI.  iv.  7.  36 :  "  Did  flesh  his  puny  sword  in  Frenchmen's  blood," 
etc.  See  also  Hen.  V.  p.  160  (note  on  Hath  been  flesh'd)  or  T.  N.  p.  157 
(note  on  Well  fleshed). 

72.  Mocking  the  air,  etc.     Cf.  Macb.  i.  2.  49  : 

"  Where  the  Norweyan  banners  flout  the  sky, 
And  fan  our  people  cold." 

Malone  remarks :  "  From  these  two  passages  Mr.  Gray  seems  to  have 
formed  the  first  stanza  of  his  celebrated  Ode : 

'Ruin  seize  thee,  ruthless  king! 
Confusion  on  thy  banners  wait ! 
Though  fann'd  by  conquest's  crimson  wing, 
They  mock  the  air  with  idle  state.'" 

Scene  II. — 2.  Remembrance.  A  quadrisyllable;  as  in  W.  7".  iv.  4.  76: 
"  Grace  and  remembrance  be  to  you  both."    Gr.  477. 

3.  Precedent.  Original  copy,  first  draught ;  as  in  Rich.  III.  iii.  6.  7  : 
"'l"he  precedent  was  full  as  long  a-doing." 

4.  Order.     Arrangement,  agreement.     See  on  v.  i.  67  above. 
6.  Sacrament.     Oath  ;  as  in  Rich.  II.  iv.  I.  328,  v.  2.  97,  etc. 
13.  Plaster.     For  the  metaphor,  cf.  Tetnp.  ii.  1. 139  : 

"  you  rub  the  sore 
When  you  should  bring  the  plaster." 

16.  Metal.     See  on  ii.  1.401  above. 

26.  Were.     The  reading  of  the  later  folios  ;  the  1st  has  "Was." 

27.  Stranger  march.  The  folios  have  "  Stranger,  march,"  which  Clarke 
retains.  Theo.  made  the  correction.  For  stranger^iovQign,  cf.  v.  i.  11 
above.  : 

30.  Spot.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  thought,"  which  W.  adopts.  "  Spur" 
and  "spite  "  have  also  been  suggested.  Spot~s\.:nn,  disgrace  (Schmidt) ; 
as  in  v.  7.  107  below.  Upon  — on  account  of;  as  in  iv.  2.  214  and  v.  i.  18 
above.  £';//fra'(/=involuntary ;  as  in  M.  of  V.  v.  i.  240,  Rich.  II.  i.  3. 
264,  etc. 

34.  Clippeth.  Embraceth.  Cf.  i  iTi-w. /F.  iii.  i.  44  :  "clipp'd  in  with 
the  sea,"  etc.     See  also  0th.  p.  192. 

36.  Grapple.  Pope's  correction  of  the  "  cripple  "  of  the  folios.  Fl. 
adopts  .Steevtns's  conjecture. of  "gripple," which  means  the  same. 


ACT  V.     SCENE  II.  173 

■  39.  To  spend.  Clarke  and  Fl.  adopt  Steevens's  conjecture  of  "  to- 
spend,"  in  which  the  to  is  intensive  ;  but  it  seems  to  be  merely  an  in- 
stance of  the  insertion  o'i  to  with  a  second  infinitive  after  its  omission 
with  the  first.  Cf  i.  i.  134  above:  "hadst  thou  rather  be  .  .  .  and  to 
enjoy."  See  Gr.  350.  There  is  no  clear  example  of  this  archaic  inten- 
sive /t?  in  S.  ,  ,  ,  ,  , 
42.  Doth.  Changed  by  Hanmer  to  "  Do  ;"  but  it  may  be  the  old  3d 
person  plural  in  -th.     See  R.  and  J.  p.  140,  and  cf.  Gr.  334. 

44.  "■  CotnpulsioH  is  here  used  in  reference  to  what  Salisbury  has  just 
before  called  this  enforced  cause ;  that  is,  the  cause  to  which  he  felt  him- 
self compelled  by  tke  infection  of  the  time.  Brave  respect  is  used  for  noble 
consideration,  patriotic  regard''  (Clarke).     Cf.  iii.  I.  58  above. 

45.  Dew.  For  the  application  to  tears,  cf.  R.  of  L.  1829,  L.  L.  L.  iv. 
3.  29,  W.  T.  ii.  I.  109,  and  Rich.  II.  v.  i.  9. 

46.  Silverly.  Silver-like  ;  used  by  S.  only  here.  The  same  is  true  of 
the  verb  progress. 

50.  This  shoiuer,  etc.     Malone  compares  R.  of  L.  1788  : 

"This  windy  tempest,  till  it  blow  up  rain. 
Held  back  his  sorrow's  tide,  to  make  it  more." 

59.  Full  ofwartn  blood.  The  folios  have  "  Full  warm  of  blood,"  which 
may  be  right,  though  it  does  not  suit  the  rest  of  the  line  so  well  as  the 
transposition  in  the  text.  The  latter  is  due  to  Heath,  and  is  adopted  by 
D.  and  the  Camb.  editors. 

64.  An  angel  spahe.  ¥\.  says  :  "  This  phrase  was  proverbial,  and  usu- 
ally involved  a  quibble  ;  as  in  Two  Angry  Women  of  Abington : 

"  Coomes.  There  speaks  an  angel.     Is  it  good  ? 

'^  Mrs.Goiirney.  Ay. 

"Coojiies.  Then  I  can  't  do  amiss;  the  good  angel  goes  with  me; 

and  in  Eastward  Ho,  ii.  i  : 

^^Quicksilver.  Security  will  smell  out  ready  money  for  you  instantly. 
^^Petronel.  There  spake  an  angel." 

Here  there  may  be  a  similar  play  upon  the  expression,  referring  to  the 
purse  just  mentioned  and  to  the  holy  legate  whom  he  sees  approaching. 
For  the  coin  called  an  angel,  cf.  ii.  i.  590  and  iii.  3.  8  above. 

79.  Propertied.  Made  a  property  of,  treated  as  a  mere  tool  or  instru- 
ment. Cf.  T.  N.  iv.  2.  99  :  "  they  have  here  propertied  me."  Note  also 
the  use  of  the  noun  in  J.  C.  iv.  i.  40  : 

"  do  not  talk  of  him 
But  as  a  property." 

89.  Interest  to.     Claim  to,  interest  in  ;  as  in  I  Hen.  IV.  iii.  2.  98 : 

"  He  hath  more  worthy  interest  to  the  state 
Than  thou  the  shadow  of  succession." 

<)().  Underprop.  Support,  uphold.  Cf /?.  <7/Z.  53  :"  Which  of  them 
both  should  underprop  her  fame  ;"  and  Rich.  II.  ii.  2.  82  :  "  Here  am  I 
left  to  underprop  his  land,"  etc. 

100.   Charge.     Expense  ;  as  in  i.  I.  49  above. 

loi.  Liable.    Allied,  associated.    Cf.  its  use^subject,  in  ii.  i.  490  above. 

104.  Bank'd.     The  most  natural  meaning  would  be  "  thrown  up  in- 


174  NOTES. 

trenchnients  before  "  (Steevens),  but  the  corresponding  passage  in  the 
old  play  favours  the  interpretation  "  sailed  along  the  banks  of."  Schmidt 
thinks  the  word  is  probably  =  the  Fr.  aborder,  to  land  on  the  banks  of. 
St.  suggests  that  it  is  a  term  in  card-playing=put  into  a  bank  or  rest,  won. 

105.  Cards.  S.  here  anticipates  the  invention  of  playing-cards  by  about 
a  century  and  a  half.     See  on  i.  i.  24  above. 

107.  Set.     Game,  match  ;  as  in  Z.  L.  L.  v.  2.  29,  Hen.  V.  i.  2.  262,  etc. 

113.  Dreiv  this  gallant  head.  Levied  this  gallant  army.  For  drew', 
see  on  iv.  2.  118  above  ;  and  on  head  cf.  i  Hen.  IV.  i.  3.  284  :  "To  save 
our  heads  by  raising  of  a  head  ;"  Id.  iv.  4.  25  :  "a  head  Of  gallant  war- 
riors," etc. 

115.  Outlook.  Outface  (cf.  v.  1.49  above);  the  only  instance  of  the 
word  in  S. 

124.  Wilful-opposite.  Obstinately  contrary  ;  not  hyphened  in  the  early 
eds.     Cf.  iii.  i.  254  above. 

125.  Temporize.  Come  to  terms;  as  in  T.  and  C.  iv.  4.  6,  Cor.  iv  6. 
17,  etc. 

130.  A  ltd  reason,  etc.     And  there  is  reason,  etc     Cf.  IV.  T.  iv.  4.  417  : 

"  reason  my  son 
Should  choose  himself  a  wife,"  etc. 

132.  Unadvised.  Inconsiderate,  rash.  Cf.  ii.  i.  45,  191  above.  Har- 
ness'd—vitdix'mg  harness,  or  armour ;  as  in  T.  and  C.  i.  2.  8. 

133.  Unhair'd.  The  folios  have  "  vn-heard  "  or  "  unheard  ;"  correct- 
ed by  Theo.  6^«/^«/r^fl'=  beardless.  Cf.  v.  i.  69  above.  Hair  was  often 
spelt  hear  or  heare.  Schmidt  piefers  /<////m^</ (^unprecedented) ;  and 
the  Coll.  MS.  has  "unheard  sauciness  of." 

138.  Take  the  hatch.     Leap  over  the  hatch.     See  on  i.  1. 170  above. 

139.  Concealed  wells.  That  is,  wells  in  out-of-the-way  places.  The 
expression  has  troubled  certain  of  the  commentators. 

144.  The  crying  of  your  nation's  crozv.  "  The  sound  of  your  nation's 
crow  ;"  alluding  to  the  crowing  of  the  cock,  which  is  the  national  bird  of 
France,  and  to  the  boastful  crowing  natural  to  Frenchmen,  to  which  S. 
has  another  allusion  in  Hen.  V.  iii.  6.  160  (Clarke).  Schmidt  takes  crow 
to  be  a  contemptuous  name  for  the  French  cock.  Rowe  changed  your 
to  "our;"  and  the  Coll.  MS.  has  "cock"  for  crow. 

145.  His.     The  folios  have  "this  ;"  corrected  by  Rowe. 

146.  Feebled.     The  verb  occurs  again  in  Cor.  i.  i.  199. 

149.  Aery.  Brood.  See  Ham.  p.  207.  Tower  was  a  term  in  falconry 
for  the  spiral  upward  flight  of  the  bird ;  as  souse  was  for  its  pouncing 
upon  its  prey.     Cf.  ii.  i.  350  above  ;  and  see  Macb.  p.  203. 

151.  Ingrate.  "  Ingrateful  "  (v.  7. 43  below),  or  ungrateful ;  as  in  7!  N. 
y.  I.  116,  Cor.  V.  2.  92,  etc  i?d^W/j-=deserters ;  as  in  v.  4.  7  below,  and 
in  Cymb.  iv.  4.  6. 

154.  Pale-visag'd.     Cf.  "  maid-pale  "  in  Rich.  II.  iii.  3.  98. 

157.  Needles.  The  ist  and  2d  folios  have  "Needl's,"  indicating  the 
metrical  contraction  of  the  word.  Some  editors  give  "neelds  ;"  as  in  i^'. 
ofL.  319,  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  204,  and  Per.  iv.  prol.  23.     See  M.  N  D.  p.  165. 

159.  Brave.  Bravado.  Cf  i  Hen.  VI.  iii.  2.  123  :  "  Now  where  's  the 
Bastard's  braves,  and  Charles  his  gleeks?" 


ACT  V.    SCENE  III. 


175 


162.  Brabbhr.     Brawler.     It  is  the  name  of  a  dog  in  71  and  C.\.  i. 
99.     C£  brabb/e=hTzv/],  in  T.  yV.  v.  I.  68,  and  see  our  ed.  p.  162. 
176.  And  in  his  forehead  sits,  etc.     Cf.  Rich.  II.  iii.  2.  160  : 

"  for  within  the  hollow  crown 
That  rounds  the  mortal  temples  of  a  king 
Keeps  Death  his  court,  and  there  the  antic  sits,"  etc. 

Scene  III. — 8.  Swinstead.  Halliwell  reads  "  Swineshead,"  which  is 
unquestionably  correct ;  but  S.  copied  the  mistake  from  the  old  play. 
Swineshead  is  in  Lincolnshire,  about  seven  miles  southwest  of  Boston. 
It  is  now  a  rural  town,  but  was  then  a  seaport.  The  abbey,  about  half  a 
mile  east  of  the  town,  was  founded  by  Robert  de  Greslei  in  1 134.  It  was 
a  large  and  magnificent  structure,  but  nothing  is  now  left  of  it.  The 
mansion  known  as  Swineshead  Abbey  stands  near  the  site,  and  was  built 
with  materials  from  the  ancient  abbey  (Timbs). 

9.  Supply.  Reinforcements ;  as  in  v.  5.  12  below.  See  also  i  Hen. 
IV.  iv.  3.  3,  2  Hen.  IV.  i.  3.  28,  etc. 

II.  Are.  Changed  by  Capell  to  "Was  ;"  but  supply  is  used  as  a  col- 
lective noun  (cf.  V.  5.  12).  The  relative  in  the  intervening  line  takes  a 
singular  verb,  but  this  is  not  uncommon.  See  Gr.  247.  For  wrack'd 
(=wrecked  ;  the  only  spelling  in  the  early  eds.),  see  T.  N.  p.  162. 

The  Goodwin  Sands  or  "the  Goodwins"  (M.  of  V.  iii.  1.  4)  are  danger- 
ous shoals  off  the  eastern  coast  of  Kent,  not  far  from  the  moUth  of  the 
Thames.  Tradition  says  that  they  were  once  an  island  belonging  to  Earl 
Godwin,  which  was  swallowed  up  by  the  sea  about  A.D.  iioo. 


THE   GOODWIN   SANDS,   DURING   A    STOHM. 


12.  Richard.     The  messenger  here  uses  the  Christian  name  given  to 
the  knight,  though  he  has  just  called  him  lauUonbrid^^e.     "  It  is  as  if  the 


176 


NOTES: 


poet  wished  to  show  that  the  renownedly  brave  man  was  known  famil- 
iarly by  both  titles  "  (Clarke). 

13.  Retire  themselves.  Retreat.  For  the  reflexive  use,  cf.  Temp.  v.  i. 
310,  W.  T.  iv.  4.  663,  0th.  ii.  3.  386,  etc. 

Scene  IV. — i.  Stor'd  with.  Well  supplied  with.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  iii.  5. 
31  :  "To  new  store  France  with  bastard  warriors,"  etc. 

5.  In  spite  of  spite,  "Come  the  worst  that  may"  (Schmidt).  Cf.  3 
Hen.  VI.  ii.  3.  5  :  "  And,  spite  of  spite,  needs  must  I  rest  awhile." 

7.  Revolts.     See  on  v.  2.  151  above. 

10.  Bought  and  sold.  Betrayed.  Cf.  C.  of  E.  iii.  i.  72:  "It  would 
make  a  man  mad  as  a  buck,  to  be  so  bought  and  sold."  See  also  Rich, 
III.  V.  3.  305,  T.  and  C.  ii.  I.  51,  etc. 

11.  Unthread  the  rude  eye.  Changed  by  Theo.  to  "  Untread  the  rude 
way,"  and  in  the  Coll.  MS.  to  "  Untread  the  road-way."  Johnson  says 
that  "the  metaphor  is  certainly  harsh,"  but  he  does  not  think  the  pas- 
sage corrupted.  Malone  compares  Lear,  ii.  i.  121  :  "threading  dark- 
eyed  night;"  and  Cor.  in.  i.  127:  "They  would  not  thread  the  gates." 
See  also  Rich.  //.  v.  5.  17  : 

"  It  is  as  hard  to  come,  as  for  a  camel, 
To  thread  the  postern  of  a  needle's  eye." 

Clarke  says  :  "The  metaphor  has  the  more  propriety  because  to  thread 
the  eye  of  a  needle  is  a  process  of  some  difficulty  [cf.  the  paraphrase  from 
the  Bible  in  the  passage  just  quoted],  while  to  unthread  a  needle's  eye  is, 
on  the  contrary,  one  of  the  most  easy  of  tasks  :  therefore  the  proposal  to 
unthread  the  rude  eye  of  rebellion  appropriately  metaphorizes  the  intricate 
course  they  have  taken  in  forsaking  the  English  side  and  revolting  to  the 
French,  and  also  the  facile  one  they  would  take  in  withdrawing  them- 
selves from  it  and  returning  to  their  natural  allegiance."  Schmidt  under 
Eye  suggests  that  the  word  here  may  be  a  misprint  for  "  tye  "  {tie)  ;  but 
under  Unthread  he  says  :  "The  constant  combination  of  the  words  th^-ead 
and  eye  in  all  these  passages  [the  present  one  and  those  quoted  above 
from  Rich.  II.  and  Lear']  is  sufficient  to  refute  the  different  emendations 
proposed  by  the  commentators,  not  excepting  that  attempted  in  this  lex- 
icon sub  Eye.''  For  the  homely  character  of  the  metaphor,  Halliwell 
compares  iv.  3.  148  above  :  "the  bare-pick'd  bone  of  majesty,"  etc. 

14.  Lords.  The  Canib.  editors  conjecture  "  lord,"  which  is  favoured  by 
the  he  in  the  next  line.  Cf.  Hen.  V.  iv.  4.  80  :  "  The  French  might  have 
a  good  prey  of  us  if  he  knew  of  it ;"  and  30  below  :  "  I  say  again,  if  Lewis 
do  win  the  day,"  where  Le^ois  must  be  the  Freiich  of  the  present  passage. 

This  loud  day.  "  By  the  one  little  monosyllable  loud  here,  how  finely 
does  the  poet  set  before  our  imagination  the  uproar  of  battle — the  drums, 
and  tramplings,  and  trumpetings,  and  shoutings,  and  groanings  of  an  en- 
gagement !"  (Clarke). 

17.  A/oe.     More.     See  ^.  K  Z.  p.  176. 

18.  Saint  Edmundsbury.  The  ancient  town  of  Bury  St.  Edmund's  in 
Suffolk,  about  60  miles  northeast  of  London.  Portions  of  the  abbey,  in 
which  this  famous  meeting  of  the  nobles  took  place,  still  remain.  The 
illustration  of  the  altar  on  p.  1 11  (from  Knight's  Pictorial  Shaksperc)  is 


ACT  V.    SCENE    V.  177 

copied  from  Lydgate's  Life  of  St.  Edmund  (Harl.  MS.  2278) ;  the  manner 
of  taking  the  oath,  from  an  illumination  in  the  Metrical  Hist,  of  Kick.  II. 
(Harl.  MS.  13 19),  representing  the  Earl  of  Northumberland  at  Conway 
Castle,  swearing  on  the  gospels  to  secure  safe  conduct  to  Richard  on  his 
journey  to  London  ;  and  the  costumes,  from  the  effigies  of  Salisbury  (in 
Salisbury  Cathedral),  Pembroke  (in  the  Temple  Church,  London),  and 
other  contemporary  monuments. 

23.  Quantitv.  A  small  portion;  as  in  T.  of  S.  iv.  3.  112:  "Away, 
thou  rag,  thou  quantity,  thou  remnant ;"  2  Hen.  IV.  v.  i.  70 :  "  If  I  were 
sawed  into  quantities,  I  should  make  four  dozen  of  such  bearded  hermit's 
staves,"  etc. 

25.  Resolveth.  Dissolveth  ;  as  in  Ham.  i.  2. 130  :  "Thaw  and  resolve 
itself  into  a  dew,"  etc. 

27.   Use.     Utility,  advantage. 

29.  Hence.  In  another  world ;  antithetical  to  ,^^r^=this  world,  as  in 
iv.  2.  89  above.  Cf.  Ham.  iii.  2.  232:  "Both  here  and  hence  pursue  me 
lasting  strife,"  eic. 

37.  Rated.  Appraised.  "It  were  easy  to  change  rated  io  hated,  for 
an  easier  meaning,  but  rated  suits  better  with  fne.  The  Dauphin  has 
rated  your  treachery,  and  set  upon  i  difne,  which  your  lives  must  pay" 
(Johnson). 

41.  Resf^ect.     Consideration.     Cf.  iii.  I.  318  above. 

^2.  For  t/iat.  Because  that.  Gr.  151  and  287.  The  line  is  taken  from 
the  old  play. 

44.  In  lien  whereof.  In  return  for  wliich  ;  the  only  meaning  of  the 
phrase  in  S.     See  A.  V.  L.  p.  157. 

45.  Rumour.  Confused  sounds  ;  as  in  J.  C.  ii.  4.  18  :  "I  heard  a  bus- 
tling rumour,  like  a  fray." 

49.  Besltrew.     A  mild  form  of  imprecation.     Cf  v.  5. 14  below. 

50.  Favour.  Aspect,  look.  Cf.  Sonn.  125.  5  :  "dwellers  on  form  and 
favour,"  etc. 

52.  Untread.  Retrace.  Cf.  V.  and  A.  908 :  "  She  treads  the  path  that 
she  untreads  again."     See  also  M.  of  V.  ii.  6.  10. 

53.  Bated  and  retired.  Abating  and  receding.  Cf  M.  of  V.  iv.  i.  72  : 
"  And  bid  the  main  flood  bate  his  usual  height."     On  retired,  cf  Gr.  374. 

54.  Rankness.     Exuberance,  excess,  overflowing. 

55.  O'erlook^d.  Schmidt  make  this=slighted,  desjiised  ;  but  it  may  be 
=  risen  so  high  as  to  look  over.  Cf.  overpeering  in  Ham.  iv.  5.  99 :  "  The 
ocean  overpeering  of  his  list."  See  also  iii.  i.  23  above :  "  Like  a  proud 
river  peering  o'er  his  bounds." 

60.  Right.  "  In  a  manner  deserving  the  name  "  (Schmidt)  ;  as  in  iii. 
I.  183  above.  Hanmer  changed  the  word  to  "  pight "'  (placed)  and  Ca- 
pell  to  "  fight."     The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  bright." 

61.  Hafipy  nnvncss,  etc.  "  Happy  innovation  that  purposes  the  resto- 
ration of  the  ancient  rightful  government"  (Johnson). 

Scene  V. — 3.  English  measui-e.  The  folio  reading,  changed  to  "  th' 
English  measur'd  "  by  I\)pe  and  some  modern  editors.  As  Fl.  remarks, 
"the  meaning  is  general,  <?/  English  measuring,  not  specific." 

M 


178  NOTES. 

4.  JRftire.     See  on  ii.  i.  326  above. 

7.    Tottering.     "  Waving"  (Fl.)-     d.  The  Spanish  Tragedy: 

"A  man  hanging  and  tottering  and  tottering, 
As  you  know  the  wind  will  wave  a  man." 

Schmidt  makes  it=hanging  in  rags,  tattered.  Cf.  /<7/'/'^r^(/=tattered,  in 
I  Hen.  IV.  iv.  2.  37  (ist  folio):  "a  hundred  and  fiftie  totter'd  Prodi- 
galls."  The  1st  and  2d  quartos  have  "tottered"  in  Rich.  II.  iii.  3.  52  : 
"this  castle's  totter'd  battlements"  ("tatter'd"  in  folios),  li tottering^ 
tottered  here,  it  is  an  instance  of  the  active  participle  used  for  the  pas- 
sive.    See  Gr.  372.     The  Coll.  MS.  has  "  totter'd." 

Clearly  is  either=quite,  completely  (cf.  iii.  4.  122  above),  as  Fl.  explains 
it;  or=stainlessly,  as  Schmidt  gives  it.  The  Coll.  MS.  has  "closely," 
and  the  Camb.  editors  conjecture  "  cleanly." 

13.  Are.     See  on  v,  3.  11  above. 

14.  Shreivd.     Bad,  evil.     See  J.  C.  p.  145  or  Hen.  VIII.  p.  202. 

18.  The  stumbling  flight.  That  is,  in  which  one  is  liable  to  stumble. 
Cf.  v.  6. 12  below  :  "  eyeless  night  "  (that  is,  in  which  one  cannot  see). 

20.  Keep  good  quarter.  "Keep  your  posts  or  watches  in  good  order" 
(FL).  Cf.  I  Hen.  VI.  ii.  I.  63:  "Had  all  your  quarters  been  as  safely 
kept." 

22.  Adventure.  Hazard,  chance.  Cf.  C.  of  E.  ii.  2.  218  :  "  At  all  ad- 
ventures" (=at  all  hazards),  etc. 

Scene  VI. — 6.  Perfect.  Right,  correct ;  as  in  2  Hen.  IV.  iii.  i.  88  :  "a 
perfect  guess,"  etc. 

12.  Eyeless.  See  on  v.  5.  18  above.  Fl.  thinks  it  is^starless,  "the 
stars  being  the  night's  eyes,  as  the  sun  is  the  day's."  The  ist  folio  has 
"endles,"  the  later  folios  "endlesse"  or  "endless;"  corrected  by  Theo. 
Schmidt  explains  "endless"  as  "infinite,  excessive,  that  is,  extremely 
dark." 

15.  Scape.  Not  "'scape,"  as  usually  printed.  See  Ham.  p.  188  or 
\Vb.  s.  V. 

16.  Sans.     Without.     See  A.  Y.  L.  p.  163. 

17.  Bro^i)  of  night.     "As  we  say,  in  the  face  of  day"  (Fl.). 

22.  Swoon.  Spelt  "  swound  "  in  the  first  three  folios.  Cf.  R.  of.  L. 
i486,  where  it  rhymes  with  wounds.  Elsewhere  in  the  early  eds.  we  find 
"swoond,"  "swoon,"  "swoun,"  "swown,"  and  "sound." 

24.  Broke  out.     Forced  my  way  (Schmidt). 

26.  The  better  arm  you,  etc.  "  The  better  prepare  yourself  to  encoun- 
ter the  sudden  change  that  will  take  place  in  affairs  after  the  king's  death" 
(Clarke). 

27.  At  leisure.     That  is,  less  promptly,  or  at  other  people's  leisure. 

28.  Taste.  It  was  the  custom  for  kings  to  have  their  food  tasted  before 
it  was  served,  as  a  precaution  against  poison.  See  Rich.  II.  p.  220,  note 
on  Taste  of  it  first.     Halliwell  quotes  Deloney,  Strange  Histories,  1607: 

"  F'or  why,  the  monke  the  taste  before  him  tooke, 
Nor  saw  the  king  how  ill  it  made  him  looke  ; 
And  therefore  he  a  hearty  draught  did  take,  , 

Which  of  his  royal  life  dispatch  did  make.'* 


ACT  V.    SCENE   VII.  179 

29.  Resolved.  Resolute,  determined.  Cf.  Rich.  III.  i.  3.  340:  "  How 
now,  my  hardy,  stout,  resolved  mates  ?" 

Malone  remarks  :  "  Not  one  of  the  historians  who  wrote  within  sixty 
years  after  the  death  of  King  John  mentions  this  very  improbable  story. 
The  tale  is,  that  a  monk,  to  revenge  himself  on  the  king  for  a  saying  at 
which  he  took  offence,  poisoned  a  cup  of  ale,  and  having  brought  it  to  his 
majesty,  drank  some  of  it  himself  to  induce  the  king  to  taste  it,  and  soon 
afterwards  expired.  Thomas  Wykes  is  the  first  who  relates  it,  in  his 
Chroniele,  as  a  report." 

32.  Who.     For  whotn,  as  often.     Gr.  274. 

39.  Power.     Force.     See  on  iii.  3.  70  above. 

40.  Taken  by  the  tide.  On  the  14th  of  October,  1216,  as  the  king  was 
attempting  to  ford  the  Wash  at  low  water,  and  had  already  got  across 
himself,  with  the  greater  part  of  his  army,  the  return  of  the  tide  suddenly 
swept  away  the  carriages  and  horses  that  conveyed  all  his  baggage  and 
treasures ;  and  the  spot  is  still  known  as  "  King's  Corner."  It  was  on 
the  same  night  that  the  king  arrived  at  the  Cistercian  monastery  at 
Swineshead,  and  was  taken  with  the  fever  of  which  he  died. 

44.  Doubt.     Fear.     See  on  iv.  i.  19  above  ;  and  for  or  ere,  on  iv.  3.  20. 

Scene  VII. — i.  Prince  Henry.  The  prince  was  only  nine  years  old 
when  his  father  died. 

2.  Corruptibly.  So  as  to  be  corrupted  ;  used  by  S.  only  here.  For 
pitre  W.  reads'"  poor,"  but  the  folio  has  "pure,"  not  "pore"  as  he  as- 
sumes. Halliwell  cites  Ueloney's  account  of  John's  death  in  his  Strange 
Histories:  "Distempering  then'the  pure  unspotted  braine." 

10.  Orchard.     Garden.     See  y.  C.  p.  142. 

John  did  not  die  at  Swineshead  (or  S-winstead),  as  here  represented. 
On  the  day  after  he  arrived  there  (see  on  v.  6.  40  above),  though  very 
ill,  he  was  conveyed  in  a  litter  to  the  Castle  of  Sleaford,  and  thence  on 
the  i6th  of  October  to  the  Castle  of  Newark,  where  he  expired  on  the 
i8th,  in  the  49th  year  of  his  age  and  the  17th  of  his  reign. 

16.  Insensible.  The  folio  has  "  inuisible,"  which  is  retained  by  K.,  the 
Camb.  editors,  and  FI.  K.  explains  it  as  "  un!ooked-at,  disregarded." 
Fl.  puts  a  comma  before  it,  and  says  that  death  "is  visibly  acting  while 
preying  on  the  body,  but  invisible  when  he  attacks  the  mind."  Neither 
of  these  interpretations  seems  to  us  satisfactory,  and  we  have  little  hesi- 
tation in  adopting  Ilanmer's  emendation,  as  do  D.,  St.,  Sr.,  W.,  H.,  and 
Clarke.  Steevens  suggested  "invincible,"  and  the  Coll.  MS.  has  "  un- 
visited." 

22.  Who  chants,  etc.  For  the  allusion  to  the  poetic  idea  of  the  dying 
song  of  the  swan,  see  R.  of  L.  161 1  : 

"  And  now  this  pale  swan  in  her  watery  nest 
Begins  the  sad  dirge  of  her  certain  ending ;" 

Phoenix  and  Turtle,  15  :  "  the  death-divining  swan  ;"  0th.  v.  2.  247  : 
and  M.  ofV.  iii.  2.  44: 


"  I  will  play  the  swan, 
And  die  in  music , 


i8o  NOTES. 

"Then  if  he  lose,  he  makes  a  swan-like  end, 

Fading  in  music." 

26.  Indigest.  Indigested  or  shapeless  mass,  chaos  ;  the  only  instance 
of  the  noun  in  S.  The  adjective  (^chaotic,  formless)  occurs  in  Sonu. 
114.  5 :  "monsters  and  things  indigest."  Ovid  (_Met.  i.)  describes  Chaos 
as  "  rudis  indigestaque  moles." 

32.  I  am  a  scribbled  fonn,  etc.     See  p.  35  above. 

35.  Fare.  Metrically  a  dissyllable  (Gr.  480).  Fl.  reads  "ill-faring,"' 
and  Daniel  suggests  "  ill-fated." 

37.  To  thrust  his  icy  fingers,  etc.  Steevens  quotes  Dekker,  GuVs  Horn- 
book, 1609:  "the  morning  waxing  cold,  thrust  his  frosty  fingers  into  thy 
bosome  ;"  and  The  Great  Frost,  etc.,  1608  :  "  The  cold  hand  of  winter  is 
thrust  into  our  bosoms."     The  corresponding  passage  in  the  old  play 

reads  thus:  "  Philip,  some  drink.     O.  for  the  frozen  Alps 

To  tumble  on,  and  cool  this  inward  heat. 
That  rageth  as  a  furnace  seven  fold  hot." 

42.  Cold  comfort.  There  is  a  play  upon  the  phrase,  which  was  ironi- 
cally used,  as  it  still  is,  in  the  sense  of  small  comfort.  Cf.  T.  of  S.  iv.  i. 
33  :  "  or  shall  I  complain  of  thee  to  our  mistress,  whose  hand,  she  being 
now  at  hand,  thou  shalt  soon  feel,  to  thy  cold  comfort,  for  being  slow  in 
thy  hot  office.''"  For  the  quibbling  on  a  death-bed,  cf.  Rich.  II.  ii.  i.  73 
fol.,  and  see  our  ed.  p.  172. 

Strait.     Niggardly,  parsimonious. 

43.  Ingrateftd.  Used  by  S.  interchangeably  with  tingrateful.  So  in- 
certain  and  uncertain,  infortunate  (ii.  I.  178  above)  and  7infortuuate,&tc. 

50.  Spleen.     Eagerness,  impetuosity.     See  on  ii.  i.  68  above. 

51.  Set.     That  is,  close. 

52.  Tackle.     For  the  metaphor,  cf.  Cor.  iv.  5.  67  : 

"Thou  hast  a  grim  appearance,  and  thy  face 
Bears  a  command  in  't ;  though  thy  tackle  "s  torn, 
Thou  show'st  a  noble  vessel." 

58.  Module.  The  spelling  of  the  folio  here  and  in  A.  IV.  iv.  3.  114: 
"this  counterfeit  module."  Elsewhere  it  is  tnodel,  which  Hanmer  and 
others  substitute  here.     The  word  is  =  iniage  ;  as  in  Rich.  II.  \.  2.  28  : 

"  In  that  thou  seest  thy  wretched  brother  die, 
Who  was  the  model  of  thy  father's  life;" 

Hen.  VIII.  iv.  2.  132  :  "  The  model  of  our  chaste  loves,  his  young  daugh- 
ter," etc. 

Confounded  =x\x\\\&(^ ;  the  most  common  meaning  in  S.  See  Macb.  p. 
189,  and  cf.  iv.  2.  29  above. 

59.  Preparing  hitherward.  For  the  ellipsis,  cf.  Rich.  II.  v.  I.  37:  "pre- 
pare thee  hence  for  France;"  and  Cor.  iv.  5.  140:  "Who  am  prepar'd 
against  your  territories." 

60.  Heavett.  Walker  conjectures  "  God."  Very  likely  that  was  the 
original  word,  changed  by  the  editors  of  the  folio  on  account  of  the 
statute  of  James  against  the  use  of  the  divine  name  on  the  stage.  Cf. 
iii.  I.  156  above;  and  see  Oth.  p.  11. 

62.  Upon.  On  account  of,  for  the  sake  of.  Cf.  ii.  i.  597,  iv.  2.  214, 
and  v.  I.  18  above.     Gr.  191. 


ACT  V.    SCENE  VII.  18 1 

63.  Were  in  the  Washes,  etc.  This  accident  really  happened  to  John 
himself.     See  on  v.  6.  40  above. 

66.  But  now  a  king,  now  thus.  V.  remarks  :  "  The  tragic  poet  has 
here  brought  the  death  of  John  into  immediate  contact  with  his  mo^t 
atrocious  crime,  as  the  natural  sequence  and  just  retribution  of  his  guilt 
towards  young  Arthur.  The  matter-of-fact  commentators  complain, 
with  Mr.  Courtenay  [Comntentai-ies  on  Shakespeare'' s  Historical  Flays), 
that  here  is  a  long  interval  leaped  over  at  once  in  which  '  foreign  and 
cruel  wars  had  raged  with  varied  success,  and  one  event  had  happened 
of  which,  although  it  is  that  by  which  we  now  chiefly  remember  King 
John,  no  notice  is  taken  whatever.  This  is  no  other  than  the  signature 
of  Magna  Charta.'  The  plain  answer  to  this  is,  that  the  poet's  design 
was  not' to  turn  the  chronicle  of  John's  reign  into  dramatic  dialogue, 
but  to  produce  from  the  materials  an  historical  tragedy ;  for  which  pur- 
pose Constance,  Arthur,  and  the  half-fictitious  Faulconbridge  afforded 
more  suitable  materials  for  his  imagination  than  Magna  Charta,  and  the 
political  rights  of  Englishmen  acquired  under  it.  By  the  selection  he 
made  he  was  naturally  led  to  the  exhibition  of  female  character  as  in- 
tense, as  passionate,  and  as  overflowing  with  feeling,  and  with  the  most 
eloquent  expression,  as  his  own  Juliet,  but  with  the  same  all-absorbing 
affection  transferred  from  the  lover  to  an  only  child.  On  the  other  hand, 
had  he  chosen  the  great  political  question  for  the  turning-point  of  inter- 
est in  his  drama — and  if  touched  on  at  all  it  must  have  been  made  the 
main  and  central  point  of  the  action — it  would  have  required  all  the 
poet's  skill  to  have  avoided  the  too  literal  but  unpoetical  truth  which 
Canning  has  so  drolly  ridiculed  in  his  mock-German  play,  when  one  of 
the  exiled  Barons  informs  the  other  that — 

'The  charter  of  our  liberties  receiv'd 
The  royal  signature  at  five  o'clock. 
When  messengers  were  instantly  dispatch'd 
To  cardinal  Pandulph,  and  their  Majesties, 
After  partaking  of  a  cold  collation, 
Return'd  to  Windsor.' 

"Mr.  Knight's  remarks  on  this  point  are  exceeedingly  just  and  elo- 
quent : — '  The  interval  of  fourteen  years,  between  the  death  of  Arthur 
and  the  death  of  John,  is  annihilated.  (Causes  and  consequences,  sepa- 
rated in  the  proper  history  by  long  digressions  and  tedious  episodes,  are 
brought  together.  The  attributed  murder  of  Arthur  lost  John  all  the  in- 
heritances of  the  house  of  Anjou,  and  allowed  the  house  of  Capet  to  tri- 
umph in  his  overthrosv.  Out  of  this  grew  a  larger  ambition,  and  Eng- 
land was  invaded.  The  death  of  Arthur,  and  the  events  which  marked 
the  last  days  of  John,  were  separated  in  their  cause  and  effect  by  time 
only,  over  which  the  poet  leaps.  It  is  said  that  a  man  who  was  on  the 
point  of  drowning  saw,  in  an  instant,  all  the  events  of  his  life  in  connec- 
tion with  his  approaching  end.  So  sees  the  poet.  It  is  his  to  bring 
the  beginnings  and  the  ends  of  events  into  that  real  union  and  depend- 
ence, which  even  the  philosophical  historian  may  overlook,  in  tracing 
their  course.  It  is  the  poet's  office  to  preserve  a  unity  of  action  ;  it  is 
the  historian's  to  show  a  consistency  of  progress.  In  the  chroniclers  we 
have  manifold  changes  of  fortune  in  the  life  of  John,  after  Arthur  of 


l82  NOTES. 

Brittany  has  fallen.  In  Shakespeare,  Arthur  of  Brittany  is  at  once 
revenged.  The  heart-broken  mother  and  her  boy  are  not  the  only 
sufferers  from  double  courses.  The  spirit  of  Constance  is  appeased  by 
the  fall  of  John.  The  Niobe  of  a  Gothic  age,  who  vainly  sought  to 
shield  her  child  from  as  stern  a  destiny  as  that  with  which  Apollo  and 
Artemis  pursued  the  daughter  of  Tantalus,  may  rest  in  peace  !'  " 

74.  A'ijw,  now,  you  stars,  etc.  Addressed  to  the  revolted  nobles  who 
had  returned  to  their  allegiance. 

86.  Presently  to  leave.  Immediately  to  give  up.  For  presently,  cf.  ii. 
1.  538  above. 

99.  At  Worcester.  John  died  at  Newark  (see  on  10  above),  commend- 
ing his  body  and  soul  to  God  and  to  St.  Wulfstan,  the  last  great  English 
saint  who  had  been  canonized.  His  body,  arrayed  in  royal  apparel,  was 
accordingly  conveyed  to  Worcester,  where  it  was  interred  in  the  Cathe- 
dral, the  great  church  begun  by  Wulfstan  in  1084  and  dedicated  to  his 
honour  in  1218.*  The  tomb  on  which  the  king's  effigy  rests  (see  cut  on 
p.  131  above)  is  a  work  of  the  i6th  century,  but  the  effigy  itself  is  said  to 
be  the  original  cover  of  the  stone  coffin  in  which  the  remains  of  John 
were  discovered  under  the  pavement  of  the  choir  in  1797.  It  is  the 
earliest  sculptured  representation  of  an  English  monarch  that  remains 
in  the  country. 

108.  Give  you  thanks.  Rowe's  correction  of  the  "give  thanks"  of  the 
folios.     The  Camb.  editors  conjecture  "fain  give  thanks." 

no.  O,  let  us  pay,  etc.  "  As  previously  we  have  found  sufficient  cause 
for  lamentation,  let  us  not  waste  the  present  time  in  superfluous  sorrow" 
(Steevens).  Clarke  paraphrases  the  passage  thus :  "  Let  us  pay  but  the 
due  amount  of  lamentation  to  that  woe  which  is  past ;  since  time  now 
promises  to  put  a  period  to  our  griefs  by  better  unity  among  ourselves." 

n6.  Come  the  three  corners,  etc.  That  is,  let  the  rest  of  the  world 
come  against  us,  and  we  shall  withstand  them.  Cf  Temp.  i.  2.  491  :  "all 
corners  else  o'  the  earth;"  and  Q/w/'.  iii.4.39:  "All  corners  of  the  world." 

118.  If  England  to  itself  do  rest  but  true.    Cf  the  ending  of  the  old  play : 

"  Let  England  live  but  true  within  itself, 
And  all  the  world  can  never  wrong  her  state.  * 

♦  *»»*## 

If  England's  peers  and  people  join  in  one, 
Nor  pope,  nor  Fraunce,  nor  Spain,  can  do  them  wrong." 

See  also  3  Hen.  VI.  iv.  i.  40  : 

"  Why,  knows  not  Montague  that  of  itself 
England  is  safe,  if  true  within  itself?" 

Steevens  cites  Churchyard,  Discourse  of  Rebellion,  1570  : 

•  In  1207  John  visited  Worcester,  and  after  praying  at  the  tomb  of  Wulfstan  gave 
three  hundred  marks  for  the  repair  of  the  Cathedral. 

According  to  Holinshed,  the  king  was  buried  at  Croxton  Abbey  in  Staffordshire  :  but 
Matthew  Paris  states  that  it  was  at  Worcester.  He  says:  "  Et  his  ita  gestis,  sciscitatus 
est  ab  eo  Abbas  de  Croestuna  si  ipsum  mori  contingeret,  ubi  vellet  eligere  sepulturam. 
Cui  Rex  respondens  dixit,  Deo  et  Sancto  Wlstano  corpus  et  animam  meam  commendo. 
Qui  postea  in  nocte  quae  diem  Sancti  Lucae  Evangelistae  proxime  sequuta  est,  ex  hac 
vita  migravit.  Cujus  corpus  regio  schemate  omatum  ad  Wigomiam  delatum  est ;  et  in 
ecclesia  Cathedral!  ab  Episcopo  loci  honorifice  tumulatum." 


ADDENDA.  183 

"  O  Britayne  bloud,  marke  this  at  my  desire : 
If  that  you  sticke  together  as  you  ought 
This  lyttle  yle  may  set  the  world  at  nought." 

Reed  traces  the  sentiment  back  to  Andrew  Borde  (who  died  in  1549), 
Introd.  of  Knowledge :  "for  if  they  [the  English]  were  true  wythin  them- 
selves they  nede  not  to  feare  although  al  nacions  were  set  against  them." 


ADDENDA. 

Mrs.  Siddons  on  Constance. — Mrs.  Siddons  left  behind  her  in  man- 
uscript her  own  analysis  of  the  character  of  Constance,  and  we  extract 
from  Campbell's  Life  of  Siddoiis  this  commentary  of  a  great  actress  on 
the  poet : 

"  My  idea  of  Constance  is  that  of  a  lofty  and  proud  spirit,  associated 
with  the  most  exquisite  feelings  of  maternal  tenderness,  which  is,  in 
truth,  the  predominant  feature  of  this  interesting  personage.  The  senti- 
ments which  she  expresses,  in  the  dialogue  between  herself,  the  King  of 
France,  and  the  Duke  of  Austria,  at  the  commencement  of  the  second 
act  of  this  tragedy,  very  strongly  evince  the  amiable  traits  of  a  humane 
disposition  and  of  a  grateful  heart. 

********* 

"  The  ideas  one  naturally  adopts  of  her  qualities  and  appearance  are, 
that  she  is  noble  in  mind,  and  commanding  in  person  and  demeanour ; 
that  her  countenance  was  capable  of  all  the  varieties  of  grand  and  ten- 
der expression,  often  agonized,  though  never  distorted  by  the  vehemence 
of  her  agitations.  Her  voice,  too,  must  have  been  '  propertied  like  the 
tuned  spheres,'  obedient  to  all  the  softest  inflections  of  maternal  love,  to 
all  the  pathos  of  the  most  exquisite  sensibility,  to  the  sudden  burst  of 
heart  -  rending  sorrow,  and  to  the  terrifying  imprecations  of  indignant 
majesty,  when  writhing  under  the  miseries  inflicted  on  her  by  her  das- 
tardly oppressors  and  treacherous  allies.  The  actress  whose  lot  it  is  to 
personate  this  great  character  should  be  richly  endowed  by  nature  for  its 
various  requirements  ;  yet,  even  when  thus  fortunately  gifted,  much, 
very  much,  remains  to  be  effected  by  herself;  for  in  the  performance  of 
the  part  of  Constance  great  difficulties,  both  mental  and  physical,  pre- 
sent themselves.  And  perhaps  the  greatest  of  the  former  class  is  that 
of  imperiously  holding  the  mind  reined  in  to  the  immediate  perception 
of  those  calamitous  circumstances  which  take  place  during  the  course  of 
her  sadly  eventful  history.  The  necessity  for  this  severe  abstraction  will 
sufliciently  appear,  when  we  remember  that  all  those  calamitous  events 
occur  while  she  herself  is  absent  from  the  stage ;  so  that  this  power  is 
indispensable  for  that  reason  alone,  were  there  no  other  to  be  assigned 
for  it.  Because,  if  the  representative  of  Constance  shall  ever  forget, 
even  behind  the  scenes,  those  disastrous  events  which  impel  her  to  break 
forth  into  the  overwhelming  effusions  of  wounded  friendship,  disappointed 
ambition,  and  maternal  tenderness,  upon  the  first  moment  of  her  appear- 
ance in  the  third  act,  when,  stunned  with  terrible  surprise,  she  exclaims— 


184  ADDENDA. 

'Gone  to  be  niamed — gone  to  swear  a  peace  I 
False  blood  to  false  blood  join'd— gone  to  be  friends  t' — 

if,  I  say,  the  mind  of  the  actress  for  one  moment  wanders  from  these  dis- 
tressing events,  she  must  inevitably  fall  short  of  that  high  and  glorious 
colouring  which  is  indispensable  to  the  painting  of  this  magnificent  por- 
trait. 

"The  quality  of  abstraction  has  always  appeared  to  me  so  necessary 
in  the  art  of  acting  that  I  shall  probably,  in  the  course  of  these  remarks, 
be  thought  too  frequently  and  pertinaciously  to  advert  to  it.  I  am  now, 
however,  going  to  give  a  proof  of  its  usefulness  in  the  character  under 
our  consideration  ;  and  1  wish  my  opinion  were  of  sufficient  weight  to 
impress  the  importance  of  this  power  on  the  minds  of  all  candidates  for 
dramatic  fame.  Here,  then,  is  one  example  among  many  others  which  I 
could  adduce.  Whenever  I  was  called  upon  to  personate  the  character 
of  Constance,  I  never,  from  the  beginning  of  the  play  to  the  end  of  my 
part  in  it,  once  suffered  my  dressing-room  door  to  be  closed,  in  order 
that  my  attention  might  be  constantly  fixed  on  those  distressing  events 
which,  by  this  means,  I  could  plainly  hear  going  on  upon  the  stage,  the 
terrible  effects  of  which  progress  were  to  be  represented  by  me.  More- 
over, 1  never  omitted  to  place  myself,  with  Arthur  in  my  hand,  to  hear 
the  march,  when,  upon  the  reconciliation  of  England  and  France,  they 
enter  the  gates  of  Angiers  to  ratify  the  contract  of  marriage  between  the 
Uauphin  and  the  Lady  Blanch  ;  because  the  sickening  sounds  of  that 
march  would  usually  cause  the  bitter  tears  of  rage,  disappointment,  be- 
trayed confidence,  baffled  ambition,  and,  above  all,  the  agonizing  feelings 
of  maternal  affection,  to  gush  into  my  eyes.  In  short,  the  spirit  of  the 
whole  drama  took  possession  of  my  mind  and  frame,  by  my  attention  be- 
ing incessantly  riveted  to  the  passing  scenes.  Thus  did  I  avail  myself 
of  every  possiijle  assistance,  for  there  was  need  of  all  in  this  most  ardu- 
ous effort ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  observance  of  such  circum- 
stances, however  irrelevant  they  may  appear  upon  a  cursory  view,  was 
powerfully  aidant  in  the  representations  of  those  expressions  of  passion 
in  the  remainder  of  this  scene,  which  have  been  only  in  part  considered, 
and  to  the  conclusion  of  which  I  now  proceed. 

"Goaded  and  stung  by  the  treachery  of  her  faithless  friends,  and  al- 
most maddened  by  the  injuries  they  have  heaped  upon  her,  she  becomes 
desperate  and  ferocious  as  a  hunted  tigress  in  defence  of  her  young,  and 
it  seems  that  existence  itself  must  nearly  issue  forth  with  the  utterance 
of  that  frantic  and  appalling  exclamation — 

'  A  wicked  day,  and  not  a  holy  day, 
What  hath  this  day  deserved?  what  hath  it  done,'  etc. 

"When  King  Phijip  says  to  her — 

'  By  heaven,  lady,  you  shall  have  no  cause 
To  curse  the  fair  proceedings  of  this  day. 
Have  I  not  pawn'd  to  you  my  majesty?' — 

what  countenance,  what  voice,  what  gesture,  shall  realize  the  scorn  and 
indignation  of  her  reply  to  the  heartless  King  of  France  ?  And  then  the 
awful,  trembling  solemnity,  the  utter  helplessness  of  that  soul-subduing, 
scriptural,  and  prophetic  invocation — 


ADDENDA.  185 

'Arm,  arm,  you  heavens,  against  these  perjur'd  kings  1 
A  widow  cries:  be  husband  to  me,  heavens! 
Let  not  the  hours  of  this  ungodly  day 
Wear  out  the  day  in  peace  ;  but,  ere  sunset. 
Set  armed  discord  "twixt  these  perjui  d  ki..gs  ' 

''' If  it  ever  were,  or  ever  shall  be,  portrayed  with  its  appropriate  and 
.solemn  energy,  it  must  be  then,  and  then  only,  when  the  power  I  have 
so  much  insisted  on,  co-operating  also  with  a  high  degree  of  enthusiasm, 
shall  have  transfused  the  mind  of  the  actress  into  the  person  and  situa- 
tion of  the  august  and  afflicted  Constance.  The  difficulty,  too,  of  repre- 
senting, with  tempered  rage  and  dignified  contempt,  the  biting  sarcasm 
of  the  speeches  to  Austria  (iii.  i)  may  be  more  easily  imagined  than  ex- 
plained. 

"  JJut,  in  truth,  to  beget,  in  these  whirlwinds  of  the  soul,  such  temper- 
ance as,  according  to  the  lesson  of  our  inspired  master,  shall  give  them 
smoothness,  is  a  difficulty  which  those  only  can  appreciate  who  have 
made  the  effort. 

"  I  cannot,  indeed,  conceive,  in  the  whole  range  of  dramatic  character, 
greater  difficulty  than  that  of  representing  this  grand  creature.  Brought 
before  the  audience  in  the  plenitude  of  her  afflictions  ;  oppression  and 
falsehood  having  effected  their  destructive  mark  ;  the  full  storm  of  ad- 
versity, in  short,  having  fallen  upon  her  in  the  interval  of  their  absence 
from  her  sight,  the  effort  of  pouring  properly  forth  so  much  passion  as 
past  events  have  excited  in  her,  without  any  visible  previous  progrei^s 
towards  her  climax  of  desperation,  seems  almost  to  exceed  the  power  of 
imitation.  Hers  is  an  affliction  of  so  'sudden,  floodgate,  and  o'erbearing 
nature'  that  art  despairs  of  realizing  it,  and  the  effort  is  almost  life- 
exhausting.  Therefore,  whether  the  majestic,  the  passionate,  the  tender 
Constance  has  ever  yet  been,  or  ever  will  be,  personated  to  the  entire 
satisfaction  of  sound  judgment  and  fine  taste,  I  believe  to  be  doubtful  ; 
for  I  believe  it  to  be  nearly  impossible. 

"  I  now  come  to  the  concluding  scene ;  and  I  believe  I  shall  not  be 
thought  singular  when  I  assert  that,  though  she  has  been  designated  the 
ambitious  Constance,  she  has  been  ambitious  only  for  her  son.  It\vas 
for  him,  and  him  alone,  that  she  aspired  to,  and  struggled  for,  hereditary 
sovereignty.  For  example,  you  find  that,  from  that  fatal  moment  when 
he  is  separated  from  her,  not  one  regret  for  lost  regal  power  or  splen- 
dour ever  escapes  from  her  lips;  no,  not  one  idea  does  she  from  that 
instant  utter  which  does  not  unanswerably  prove  that  all  other  consider- 
ations are  annihilated  in  the  grievous  recollections  of  motherly  love. 
That  scene  (iii.  4),  I  think,  must  determine  that  maternal  tenderness  is 
the  predominant  feature  of  her  character. 

"Her  gorgeous  affliction,  if  such  an  expression  is  allowable,  is  of  so 
sublime  and  so  intense  a  character  that  the  personation  of  its  grandeur, 
with  the  utterance  of  its  rapid  and  astonishing  eloquence,  almost  over- 
whelms the  mind  that  meditates  its  realization,  and  utterly  exhausts  the 
frame  which  endeavours  to  express  its  agitations." 


1 86  ADDENDA. 

The  "Time- Analysis"  of  the  Play.— This  is  summed  up  by  Mr. 
P.  A.  Daniel  {.Trans,  of  New  Shaks.  Soc.  1877-79,  P-  263)  as  follows  : 

"Time  of  this  play  seven  days;  with  intervals,  comprising  in  all  not 
more  than  three  or  four  months. 
Day  I.  Act  I.  sc.  i. 

Interval.     Return  of  French  Ambassador,  and  arrival  of 
John  in  France. 
"    2.  Act  II.  sc.  i..  Act  III.  sc.  i.  to  iii. 

Intei'vaL* 
"    3.  Act  III.  sc.  iv. 

Interval.'\ 
"    4.  Act  IV.  sc.  i.  to  iii. 

/n/erua/.l 
"     5.  Act  V.  sc.  i. 
Infgrval.^ 
"    6.  Act  V.  sc.  ii.  to  V. 
"     7.  Act  V.  sc.  vi.  and  vii. 
Historical  time:  a.d.  1199-1216  ;  the  whole  of  King  John's  reign." 

The  Illustrations.— Most  of  these  are  from  Knight's  Pictorial  Shak- 
spere,  and  are  meant  to  be  "  illustrations  "  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  term. 
The  figures  of  historical  characters  are  from  their  monumental  effigies 
and  other  contemporaneous  representations.  For  the  cut  on  page  in, 
which  will  give  a  general  idea  of  the  military  and  priestly  costume  of  the 
period,  see  p.  176,  note  on  Saint  Edmtindsbiiry.  The  "  Room  of  State  " 
on  p.  41  is  an  ideal  sketch,  but  is  in  keeping  with  the  architecture  of 
John's  time.     The  view  of  Angiers  (p.  51)  is  from  an  old  print. 

*  "  Some  little  time  must  be  supposed  to  have  elapsed  since  the  battle  ;  for  the  French 
know  that  John  has  fortified  the  places  he  has  won,  and  has  returned  to  England;  from 
whence  also  they  have  intelligence  that  the  Bastard  is  ransacking  the  Church." 

t  "During  this  interval,  the  deaths  of  Constance  and  Elinor  (28th  March  and  ist 
April)  must  take  place  (see  Act  IV.  sc.  ii.)." 

X  "The  arrival  of  Ascension  Day,  the  presence  of  Pandulph,  the  news  of  the  Dauphin's 
successes,  imperatively  demand  an  interval  between  this  scene  and  the  preceding  Act; 
on  the  other  hand,  we  find  that  the  Bastard  has  only  now  returned  from  his  mission  to 
the  nobles,  and  that  the  King  now  hears  for  the  first  time  of  Arthur's  actual  death  :  these 
facts  are  incompatible  with  any  interval ;  they  connect  this  scene  with  the  scenes  of  Act 
IV.,  as  part  of  Day  4.  The  main  plot,  however,  is  impossible  without  a  supposed  inter- 
val, and  we  must  force  the  play  to  allow  it. " 

§  "  Including  at  least  Pandulph's  return  journey  to  the  Dauphin,  the  Bastard's  prep- 
aration for  defence,  and  his  and  King  John's  journey  with  their  army  to  Edmunds- 
bury." 


INDEX   OF  WORDS   AND    PHRASES 
EXPLAINED. 


a'  (=he),  t33. 

a  many,  167. 

abortives,  162. 

Absey-book,  136. 

adjunct,  160. 

adulterates,  153. 

adventure,  178. 

advice,  160. 

advised,  167. 

aery,  174. 

afeard,  166. 

aflfecteth,  134. 

airy  devils,  158. 

all  (intensive),  141. 

aloft  (preposition),  i65. 

amazed,  166,  170. 

amazement,  171. 

an  angel  spake,  173. 

anatomy  (=Death),  160. 

angel  (gold  coin),  151. 

angerly,  163. 

antique  (accent),  164. 

apparent,  165. 

armado,  160. 

arras,  163. 

as,  152,  158. 

as  great  Alcides'  shows,  etc., 

141. 
aspect  (accent),  145, 163, 167. 
assured  (  =  affianced),  150. 
at  leisure,  178. 
at  your  sick  service,  163. 
Ate,  141. 
aweless,  138. 

babe  of  clouts,  161. 

bad  world  the  while!  165. 

banked,  173. 

Basilisco-iike,  138. 

bated,  177. 

battery,  148. 

be  well  advised,  152. 

beads  (=tearsS  143. 

become  (=adorn),  171. 

Bedlam,  143. 

behaviour,  132. 

beholding  (=beholden),i38. 

beldams,  167. 


bell,  book,  and  candle,  159. 

beshrew,  177. 

bestow  yourself,  155. 

bethink  you,  155. 

bias,  151. 

bloods,  145. 

boisterous,  164. 

boisterously,  162. 

bottoms  (=ships),  141. 

bought  and  sold,  176. 

bounce,  149. 

bound  (=confine),  148, 

bounden,  159. 

brabbler,  175. 

brave  (=bravado\  174. 

brave  (=noble),  173. 

brief  (^abstract',  141. 

brief  in  hand,  171. 

broke  out,  17S. 

broke  with,  167. 

broker,  151. 

brooded  (=brooding),  160. 

brow  of  night,  178. 

buffets,  149. 

businesses,  171. 

buss,  160. 

but  (=except\  153. 

but  for  because,  isi- 

but  new  before,  155. 

call  (=bird-call),  162. 

canker-sorrow,  i6i. 

cankered,  T44 

canonized  (accent),  154,  161. 

capable,  149,  iS2- 

cards,  174. 

censured  (=judged),  146. 

chafed,  156. 

charjie  (—cost),  133, 173- 

Chatillon   ( quadrisyllable ), 

133- 
check,  142. 
chiefest,  140. 
Christendom,  163. 
churlish  drums,  158. 
cincture,  171. 
circle  (—diadem),  171. 
clap  a  bargain  up,  155. 


clearly,  178. 
climate  (=sky),  147. 
clippeth,  172. 
close  (=reserved),  165. 
closely  (=:secretly),  164. 
cockered,  172. 
CcEur'de-lion  (spelling\i33. 
coil  (=ado),  143. 
Colbrand,  137. 
cold  comfort,  180. 
coldly  (=calmly),  141. 
commodity,  151,  r52. 
complete  of,  148. 
compound  (=agree),  145. 
compulsion,  173. 
conceit,  159. 

condition  (=quality),  158. 
conduct  (=escoit),  13J 
confound  (=ruin),  164.  180. 
conjunction,  T49. 
conjure  (accent),  168. 
content,  152. 
contrary  (accent),  167. 
control  (=constraint),  132. 
conversion,  136. 
convertite,  171. 
corruptibly,  179. 
counterfeit,  153. 
counties,  171. 
cousin,  159. 
covetousness,  164. 
cracker  (play  upon),  143. 
cry  aim,  144. 
cry  havoc,  X47- 
crying  of  your  nation's  crow, 

174. 
customed,  162. 

dam,  142. 

damned  black,  170. 
Dauphin  (spelling).  148. 
dear  (=;grievous),  138. 
defy  (=refuse),  160. 
departed  with,  150. 
detestable  (accent),  160. 
dew  (—tears),  173. 
differences,  147,  156. 
diffidence  (^distrust),  133. 


1 88    INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  EXPLAINED. 


disallow.  132. 
dishabited,  145. 
dispiteous,  163. 
displayed,  146. 
displeasure,  172. 
dispose  (nouu).  138. 
distempered,  169. 
divinely,  145. 
doubt  (=fear,  suspect),  163, 

165   179. 
doubtless  and  secure,  164. 
drawn  (  -levied),  166,  174. 
dunghill,  169. 
dying  (play  upon),  164. 

easy  (adverb),  170. 

effect  (=  import),  163. 

eld  st,  143. 

embaitaiied,  167. 

embounded,  170. 

endamagement,  145. 

enforced,  172 

England  (-=king  of  Eng- 
land), 160. 

envy  at,  161. 

evilly,  162. 

exampled  by,  i6g. 

exclamation,  150. 

excommunicate,  154. 

excuse,  142. 

exhalation,  162 

expedient  (=rapid),  141, 145, 
i68. 

eyeless  (=dark),  178. 

fall(=befall),  133. 

fall  from,  158. 

tall  over  (=  deseit\  154. 

fare  (dissyllable),  180. 

fast  and  loose,  156. 

favour  (=aspect),  177. 

fear  (=cause  to  fear).  147. 

fearful  (=full  of  fear),  165. 

feature,  168. 

feebled,  174. 

fetch  about,  164. 

flesh  his  spirit,  172. 

fleshly,  168. 

fondly  (  —  foolishly),  145. 

foot  (plural),  165. 

for  (  =  because),  151. 

for  that,  177. 

forage,  171. 

force  perforce,  154. 

foresaid.  154. 

forethought,  158. 

form  (-head-dress),  161. 

forwearied.  145. 

from  (~  away  from).  170. 

fronts  (=brows^,  147. 

pap  of  breath,  i6c. 
gawds,  159. 


gilt  (-stained*,  146. 
give  off  (=give  up),  171. 
give  us  leave,  137. 
glister,  171. 
God-a-mercy.  136. 
good  den,  136. 
goods,  165 

Goodwin  Sands,  175. 
gracious,  161. 
griefs,  169. 

guard  (=ornament\  164. 
Gurney,  137. 

liadst  (dissyila  le).  167. 

half-faced  groat,  134. 

liandkerclier,  163- 

harnessed,  174. 

hatch  (=  half-door),  136,174. 

he.id  (=army),  174. 

heat  (=  heatedi,  163. 

heavy-thick,  159. 

hence,  177. 

here  or  hence,  165,  177. 

here  's  a  good  world  !  170 

high  tides,  153, 

his  (=its),  159. 

holds  hand  with,  149. 

help,  138. 

horse  back,  146. 

hour  (dissyllable),  170. 

humorous,  154. 

hurly,  162. 

idly  (=casually),  166. 
ill-tuned  repetitions,  144. 
imaginary  eyes  of  blood,  168. 
importance  (=importunity), 

140. 
in  lieu  of,  177. 
in  rest,  165. 
in  spite  01  spite,  176. 
indenture.  140. 
indifferency,  151. 
indigest,  iSo. 
indirection,  156. 
indirectly,  140. 
indue,  165. 
infixed.  149. 
inflamed,  171. 
infortunate,  143. 
ingrate,  174. 
ingrateful,  iSo. 
insensible,  179. 
interest  to.  173. 
interrogatories,  154. 
invasive,  172. 
it  (possessive),  143. 

jades,  148. 

Joan  (=peasant  girp,  136. 

keep  (=roccupy\  159. 
keep  good  quarter,  178. 


kinged  of,  147. 
knit  (-join),  148. 

large  composition,  134. 

lays  you  plo  s,  162. 

leave  (  =  give  up),  182. 

liable  (-  allied  ,  173. 

liable  (=suitable  ,  167. 

lien,  163. 

lies  on  the  hazards  of.  134. 

likes  (=pleasesi,  150. 

lineal,  141. 

lives  (pronunciation),  158. 

lord   of  thy   presence,   134, 

.147- 
loud  day,  176. 
love  (=act  of  love),  163. 
loves  (=lovers),  161. 
lusty,  148. 

made  it  no  conscience.  168. 
make  up  (  —  hurry  on),  159. 
malicious  (^malignant),  146. 
manage  (noun),  133. 
mark  (coin),  150. 
match  (play  upon),  149. 
measures,  158. 
mettle,  148. 
mew  up,  165. 
might  (=could),  146. 
minion  (  =  darling),  148. 
misplaced,  162. 
mistempered,  171. 
modem  (—  trite),  160. 
module.  180. 
moe,  176. 

monster  (=cuckold^  146. 
more  (=greater),  140. 
more  circumstarce,  141. 
mote  (spelling),  163. 
motion  (-  impulse  ,  137, 168. 
mousing,  147. 
muse  (= wonder),  158. 
mutines,  £47. 

needles  (monosyllable),  174. 

no  had,  167. 

Nob  (=Robert),  135. 

occasion  (=fortune),  166. 
ocean  (trisyllable),  147. 
o'erlooked,  177. 
of  note,  164. 
once  superfluous,  164. 
opposite,  156. 
or  ere,  169,  179. 
orchard  (=garden),  179. 
order  (=agreement),  172. 
orders  (= conditions),  172. 
ordinance  (—ordnance),  145. 
outfaced  infant  state,  141. 
outlook  (-outface),  174. 
outrage,  i6i. 


INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  EXPLAINED.     i8'j 


owe  (=o\vn),  141,  14s,  165. 

parle,  144- 

party  (—part),  133,  154. 

pass  (= reject  ,  145. 

passionate,  150 

pearls  (  =  tears),  143. 

peering  o'er,  152. 

peevish  (  —  foolish),  148. 

peized,  151. 

pell-mell,  148. 

perfect  (-  correct),  178. 

perforce,  139. 

pevsever,  148. 

Philip  (,=sparrow'^,  137. 

picked  (  =  refined  ,  136. 

Plantagenet,  135. 

plots  ofbest  advantages,  140. 

policy,  148. 

Pomfret,  166. 

possessed  you  with,  164. 

potents  (=potentates),  147. 

pound  (plural),  133 

powers  (:=ariny),  160,  179. 

practice  (=plotting  ,  169. 

practises  (= plots),  163. 

prate,  163. 

precedent,  172. 

presently,  182. 

prisonment,  162. 

private  (noun),  169. 

prodigious,  152. 

promotions  iquadrisyllable), 

149. 
proiier  (—comely),  138. 
propertied,  173. 
protection    (quadrisyllable), 

145. 
puissance  (=army),  1^8. 
put  over  (=refer),  133. 
Pyrenean,  137. 

qualified,  171. 
quantity,  177. 
quoted,  167. 

race  of  night,  159. 

rail  on,  151. 

ramping,  154. 

rankness,  177. 

rated,  177. 

regreet,  156. 

remembers  me,  161. 

remembrance  (quadrisylla- 
ble), 172. 

remorse  (  =  pity),  i6g,  170. 

resolved  (=resolute),  179. 

resolved  (=set  at  rest',  147. 

resolveth  (=dissolveth),i77. 

respect  (^motive),  158. 

respect  (  =  regard),  159,  161, 
>73,  I77- 

respective,  136. 


retire  (noun\  145,  146,  178.     , 
retire  (reflexive  ,176.  1 

retired  (=receding),  177.         | 
revolts  (=deserters),  1 74, 1 76. 
rheum  (  =  tears  ),  152,  163, 

170. 
riding-rods,  135. 
right  (adverb  .  177. 
Rome  (proiuuiciation\  155. 
rounded  (  =  whispered;,  151. 
roundure,  145. 
rub  (^obstacle),  162. 
rumour  (—noise),  177. 

sacrament  (=oath^,  172. 
safety  (-  custody',  166 
Sanit     Edmundsbury,    169, 

176. 
Saint  Mary's  chapel,  150. 
sans,  178. 
saucy,  148. 
savagery,  169. 
say  with,  163. 
scamble,  170. 
scape,  1 78. 
scath  (=  harm),  141. 
scope,  162. 
scorn  at,  137. 
scroyles,  147. 
set  (—appointed',  165. 
set  (= close),  180. 
set  (=  game),  174. 
shadow  (  —  reflection),  149. 
she  (=woman),  148. 
should  (=was  to),  165. 
should  (=would  ,  154. 
show  (=seem),  i6i. 
shrewd,  178. 

sightless  (=unsightly),  152. 
silverly,  173. 
sin  of  times,  169. 
slops  (  =  breeches\  155. 
smoke  (  =  beat',  142. 
so  lomitted',  161. 
so  fierce  a  cause,  160. 
sociable  (quadrisyllable*,  i6i. 
sootliest  up,  154. 
soul-fearing,  147. 
sound  (=utter),  165. 
souse,  17s. 

speaks  plain  cannon  fire,  149. 
sped,  166. 

spirits  (monosyllable^,  152. 
spleen   (=ardour),  141,  149, 

170,  180. 
spot  (  —  disgrace),  172. 
spriglitful,  166. 
spurn  against,  154. 
stand  by,  170. 
stay  (noun),  149. 
stayed  (=waited  for',  141. 
still  and  anon,  163. 
stored  with,  176. 


strait  (=niggardly),  180. 

strangely  fantasied,  166. 

stranger  (=  foreign).  172. 

strong  matter  of,  162. 

stumbling  night,  178. 

sufficed  (=satisfied),  136. 

sullen  (  =  sad),  133. 

sunset  (accent  ,  153. 

supply,  175. 

surly  (-gioomy),  159. 

suspiie,  161. 

swart  (  —  swarthy),  152. 

swinged,  146. 

swoon  (,spelling\  17S. 

table  (—tablet),  150. 

tackle,  180. 

take  head  from,  151. 

tarre  on,  164. 

taste,  178. 

temporize,  174. 

this  same  very,  164. 

three-farthings,  135. 

thunder  (  =  cannon),  148. 

tickling,  151. 

to  (=in  addition  to',  135. 

to  (intensive  ,  173. 

to  (=  towards).  157. 

toasting-iron.  170. 

toll  (=take  toll),  154. 

to-night  (=last  ni.uht"!,  166. 

took  it  upon  his  death,  134. 

toothpick.  136. 

tottering,  178. 

touched  and  tried,  153. 

tower  (in  falconry),  174. 

toy  (=trifle),  13S. 

traded,  170. 

treaty,  149. 

trick  (^peculiarity),  134. 

true  (  =  rightlul),  i6g. 

true  blood,  162. 

trumpet  (=trumpeter),  132, 

144. 
truth  (=  honesty),  135. 

unacquainted,  162. 
unadvised,  140,  144,  174. 
unattempted,  152. 
uncleanly.  163. 
unconstant,  156. 
imderbear,  153. 
underprop,  173. 
underwrought,  141. 
unhaired,  174. 
unowed.  170. 
unreverend,  137. 
unruly,  162 

unsettled  humours,  141. 
unsure,  157. 
unsured,  149. 

unthread  the  rude  eye,  etc., 
176. 


I  go     INDEX  OF  WORDS  AND  PHRASES  EXPLAINED. 


unto  tile  death,  135. 
iintowaid,  138. 
umread.  177. 
untrinimed,  155. 
unvexed,  145. 
vip  (intensive),  170. 
upon,  152,  167,  172,  180. 
use  (=utility),  177. 

vantage,  150. 
vexed  (=  disturbed),  146. 
Volquessen,  150. 
voluntaries,  141. 
vouchsafe,  is?- 


vulgar  (=general),  148. 

waft  (=wafted),  141. 
walks  (=goes),  166. 
wall-eyed,  169. 
wanton  (masculine^  172. 
wert  better,  thou,  170. 
what  (=who*,  169. 
whether  (monosyllable),  133. 
which  (=who),  152. 
whiles,  141,  162. 
who  (=which\  151. 
who  (=whom\  179. 
whom  (—who,,  166. 


whose,  i6g. 
wilful-opposite,  J75. 
will  (play  upon),  144. 
winking,  145. 
with  (—by;,  140. 
Worcester,  182. 
worship  of  revenge,  169. 
wrack,  is3>  i75- 
wrested  (—usurped  ,  170. 

yet  (=as  yet \  169. 

zealous,  148. 
zounds,  149. 


^::^^0^ 


^m^^t 


^  ...  K^^ 

Ay,  marry,  now  my  soul  hath  elbow-room  (v.  7.  28). 


SHAKESPEARE. 


WITH   NOTES  BY  WM.  J.  ROLFE,  A.M. 


The  Merohaut  of  Venice. 

'I'he  Tempest. 

Jalins  Caesar. 

Hamlet. 

As  You  Like  it. 

Henry  tlie  Fifth. 

Macbeth. 

Henry  the  Eiglith. 

A  Midsummer -Night's  Dream. 

llichard  the  Second. 

Richard  tlie  Third. 

Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

Antony  and  Cleopatra. 

Ilomeo  and  Juliet. 

Othello. 

Twelfth  Night. 

The  Winter's  Tale. 

King  John. 

Henry  lY.    Part  I. 

Henry  IV.    Tart  II. 


King  Lear. 

The  Taming  of  the  Shrerr. 

All 's  Well  That  Ends  Well. 

Coriolanus. 

Comedy  of  Errors. 

Cymbeline. 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor. 

Measure  for  Measure. 

Two  (Jentlemen  of  Verona. 

Love's  Labour 's  Lost. 

Timon  of  Athens. 

Henry  VI.    Part  I. 

Henry  VI.    Part  II. 

Henry  VI.    Part  III. 

Troilus  and  Cressida. 

Pericles,  Prince  of  Tyre. 

The  Two  Noble  Kinsmen. 

Poems. 

Sonnets. 

Titus  Andronicus. 


Illustrated.    i6mo,  Cloth,  56  cents  per  vol. ;  Paper,  40  cents  per  vol. 

FRIENDLY   EDITION,  complete  in  20  vols.,  i6mo,  Cloth,  $30  00; 
Half  Calf,  $60  00.     (Sold  only  in  Sets.) 

In  the  preparation  of  this  edition  of  the  English  Classics  it  has  been 
the  aim  to  adapt  them  for  school  and  home  reading,  in  essentially  the 
same  way  as  Greek  and  Latin  Classics  are  edited  for  educational  pur- 
poses. The  chief  requisites  are  a  pure  text  (expurgated,  if  necessary), 
and  the  notes  needed  for  its  thorough  explanation  and  illustration. 

Each  of  Shakespeare's  plays  is  complete  in  one  volume,  and  is  pre- 
ceded by  an  Introduction  containing  the  "History  of  the  Play,"  the 
"  Sources  of  the  Plot,"  and  "  Critical  Comments  on  the  Play." 

From  Horace  Howard  Furness,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  Editor  of  the  '■'^ Neiv 

Variornvi  Shakespeare." 

No  one  can  examine  these  volumes  and  fail  to  be  impressed  with  the 
conscientious  accuracy  and  scholarly  completeness  with  which  they  are 
edited.  The  educational  purposes  for  which  the  notes  are  written  Mr. 
Rolfe  never  loses  sight  of,  but  like  "  a  well-experienced  archer  hits  the 
mark  his  eye  doth  level  at." 


Rolfe^s  Shakespeare. 


From  F.  J.  FURNIVALL,  Director  of  the  Nezv  Shakspere  Society,  London. 
The  merit  I  see  in  Mr.  Rolfe's  school  editions  of  Shakspere's  Plays 
over  those  most  widely  used  in  England  is  that  Mr.  Rolfe  edits  the  plays 
as  works  of  a  poet,  and  not  only  as  productions  in  Tudor  English.  Some 
editors  think  that  all  they  have  to  do  with  a  play  is  to  state  its  source 
and  explain  its  hard  words  and  allusions ;  they  treat  it  as  they  would  a 
charter  or  a  catalogue  of  household  furniture,  and  then  rest  satisfied. 
But  Mr.  Rolfe,  while  clearing  up  all  verbal  difficulties  as  carefully  as  any 
Dryasdust,  always  adds  the  choicest  extracts  he  can  find,  on  the  spirit 
and  special  "note"  of  each  play,  and  on  the  leading  characteristics  of  its 
chief  personages.  He  does  not  leave  the  student  without  help  in  getting 
at  Shakspere's  chief  attributes,  his  characterization  and  poetic  power. 
And  every  practical  teacher  knows  that  while  every  boy  can  look  out 
bard  words  in  a  lexicon  for  himself,  not  one  in  a  score  can,  unhelped, 
catch  points  of  and  realize  character,  and  feel  and  express  the  distinctive 
individuality  of  each  play  as  a  poetic  creation. 

From  Yxoi.  Edward  Dowden,  LL.D.,  of  the  Universtty  of  Dublin,  Au- 
thor of  "  Shakspere :  His  Mind  and  Art:' 

I  incline  to  think  that  no  edition  is  likely  to  be  so  useful  for  school  and 
home  reading  as  yours.  Your  notes  contain  so  much  accurate  instruc- 
tion, with  so  little  that  is  superfluous ;  you  do  not  neglect  the  aesthetic 
study  of  the  play  ;  and  in  externals,  paper,  type,  binding,  etc.,  you  make 
a  book  "  pleasant  to  the  eye  "  (as  well  as  "  to  be  desired  to  make  one 
wise") — no  small  matter,  I  think,  with  young  readers  and  with  old. 

From  Edwin  A.  Abbott,  M.h..,  Author  of '■'■  Shakespearian  Grammar:'' 
I  have  not  seen  any  edition  that  compresses  so  much  necessary  infor- 
mation into  so  small  a  space,  nor  any  that  so  completely  avoids  the  com- 
mon faults  of  commentaries  on  Shakespeare — needless  repetition,  super- 
fluous explanation,  and  unscholar-like  ignoring  of  difficulties. 

From   Hiram   Corson,  M.A.,  Professor  of  Anglo-Saxon  and  English 
Literature,  Cornell  University,  Ithaca,  N.  Y. 
In  the  way  of  annotated  editions  of  separate  plays  of  Shakespeare,  for 
educational  purposes,  I  know  of  none  quite  up  to  Rolfe's. 


<r?i30NYsoi^     '^/^aHAiNfiaiw 


^^mi\mi^^ 


< 
as 


\WtUNIVER%       ^lOSANCHfjv. 


liUl-^' 


^Of-ULlfO/?^ 


^OFCAlIFOft^ 


iL% 


<y  \i 


■?1tUNlVtKi//i 


^4 


3» 


V  ^ 


.1? 


P  A    A—*  c 

ao 

.<  V  N  i.>^  > 
so 
-< 

%a3AINn3WV^ 


—J- 


!^i 


I? 


Q)" 


>    tXT    -r 


3  /•*>—'  ^ 


^.!/0JnV3J0>' 


^»»c  I'lit^/rrtf.^ 


•'Jdjnv  iui  " 


X  nr    t  »tr?i  r_ 


"/aai/Viniiit^^ 


^OFCAllFOff^ 


^^AJiVHan-^      ^^AHvanniS'^ 


.iC.IIDDADV/^. 


.\i 


<\XfMU1\inVft. 


^.inc.Aurtirn 


U5     2 


jv^^     "^yaaAiNnmv^ 


:^?" 


SVS( 


^^OJITV?'       „„,„„„„„ „ v.>s^  c 

LOO?  269  606  5 

n30NVS( 


S       OS 


M^ 


o 


It//.  -s^lUDnrtNltffj 


!. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    000  354  581 


'^tfUJ! 


^\      ^OfCAllfOff^ 


..\on..\vr 


iir 

anvaar 


3i»  <i>      -^  ■  — 


n^  6 


0 

you. 

31^       "^/SaaAINfl  3WV^ 


5 


jyi? 


<^ 


\\^{UNIVf 


..  -i^ 


^OfCAliFOi?^ 


^\irt{UNIV{ 


<ril33NVS( 


I 

.5= 


